


where were you in the morning, baby? (didn't leave your number for me)

by eulyhne_syios



Series: 500 Days of Summer 127 [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Awkward Romance, Fluff and Humor, Inspired by a Shawn Mendes Song, LA recording studio, Language Barrier, M/M, NCT being Dramatic, NCT127 Ensemble - Freeform, Random bursts of crack bc its nct im sorry, Slow Build, That is all, aka nct being nct, but like it's doyoung feat. foreign swaggers unit, does this count as a crackship lmao, istg if doyoung mentions shawn mendes again i will burst into a pile of uwus, maybe some angst if you squint, so it's all good, they're all his wingmen okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-01 14:46:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15776238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eulyhne_syios/pseuds/eulyhne_syios
Summary: Doyoung gets an unexpected visitor at the recording studio and perhaps...a chance of love?





	1. Preface: day 0: 12:07 am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I saw the NCT performance at KCon NY and there was a part where they sang "Where were you in the morning" by Shawn Mendes and with all the interviews of Doyoung mentioning him I was like okay I gotta write this lmaoo.

“Yo. Jaehyun.”

 

He turns, raising his brow at Johnny holding a phone towards him. They’re at a recording studio in LA —not recording anything, not yet anyway. They were just here today to take a look at the place, familiarize themselves with the equipment. It’s late. He wonders who could be calling at this hour.

 

“Who is it?”

 

Johnny smirks, winking.

 

“It’s a surprise.”

 

“Okay…” Jaehyun squints, bringing the phone to his cheek. “-hello?”

 

“Hi.” Came the youthful, slightly scratchy —somehow familiar— voice on the receiver. “-sorry, uh, is this, um, NCT? Am I, am I speaking to NCT right now?”

 

“Yes,” Then Jaehyun chuckles, twirling the phone cord with his finger. “-well, actually, just one part.”

 

“One part?”

 

“Yeah. One eighteenth, to be exact.”

 

He grins when he hears that slow whistle of acknowledgement.

 

“Well, uh, anyways,” The voice continued, a bit apologetic. “-I know it’s really late and I probably should’ve called at an earlier hour, so uh, I’ll try to make this quick.”

 

“Sure.”

 

There’s a pause and then voice blurts out, half-whisper:

 

“A-Actually, do you have to go soon or anything? I could totally call at another time —I mean, if it was the other way around and someone was calling _me_ at this hour, I’d probably be really rude and start calling them names or _swearing_ or—

 

“-No, no, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Jaehyun laughs. “-you took the trouble to call and I’ve got time.” _Though I_ am _wondering how you got this number…_

 

“Oh, I used to record here.” _Crap_. Now he was starting to voice his thoughts out loud. “-yeah, back in 2015. Still have the business card and all that, haha.”

 

“Oh, so you sing?” 

 

“Yeah.” He can hear the shy smile in his voice. “-I do. So, listen —I came across a video of you guys —NCT, eh? —performing live at KCon this year. And there was a part where a few of you sang a bit of ‘Where Were You In The Morning?’ —it was really nice —‘specially the harmonization, and I was wondering if you wanna, like, do a collaboration or something?”

 

“A collaboration?” But it’s too late in the day (not to mention he’s barely gotten any rest since practice) and Jaehyun holds the phone closer, asking dumbly: “-wait... who _are_ you…?”

 

“It’s me.” The voice laughs, and the familiarity strikes again, but slips just out of reach. “-Shawn.”

 

“Shawn.”

 

“Mendes. _Shawn_ _Mendes_.” Then he laughs again. “-wow, I really felt like James Bond just now…”

 

“Shawn Mendes.” Then his eyes lit up and he jerks his head to Johnny —who just nods earnestly, motions for him to keep talking  —it’s not a scam, it’s real, it’s him —it really _is_ him.

 

Jaehyun runs a hand over his hair, absently adjusts the front of his sweater, blinks a few times.

 

“Wow, Shawn Mendes, wow…It’s really you?”

 

“Yeah.” The voice grins. “-you know, actually I was gonna try trolling you and say _'_ _No, this is a simulation and I’m just a voice implanted by the government.’_  but you seem like a really nice guy so I decided not to.”

 

“Oh, yeah?”

 

“No.” He laughs. “-actually it’s cause I suck at that stuff. You’d never believe me.”

 

“You don’t know that. You should try it —next time you call, hmm?” Then Jaehyun remembers. “-oh, Doyoung is a big fan of yours…!”

 

“Doyoung?”

 

“He was singing “Where Were You” with me and Taeil in that video you saw. He’s always mentioning you when we get asked about our favourite artists in interviews. He really admires you.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun smiles, recalling it. “-his eyes get all sparkly when he says your name.” _And it’s the only English he ever bothers squeezing in other than the standard “thank yous” and “hellos”. Not_ _a lot of people are worth that trouble._

 

“Aw. That’s sweet.” Then Shawn pauses. “-hey, since you were at KCon, that means you guys are Korean artists, eh?”

 

“Yeah —actually we’re international —we also have Japanese, Chinese and Thai members too. I’m Korean, though,”

 

“Oh —but your English is so good.” Then he quickly adds: “-n-not to be unintentionally rude or anything…!”

 

“No offence taken. I lived in America for four years.” Almost snorting when he sees Johnny making a face —having heard this line more times than he’d ever wanted —or needed (blame it on Mark, who won’t quit sending him NCT Cracks of it on loop.)

 

“Oh, what area?”

 

“Connecticut.”

 

“That’s cool. Is it nice there? Sorry —I’m from Canada.”

 

“I think it was alright —I don’t remember it too well, I was really young, like five? Oh, hey, one of our members —Mark, is from Canada too.”

 

“No way. Toronto?” Came the hopeful reply.

 

“Vancouver.” Jaehyun pauses. “-he really misses it. The snow and all.”

 

“Yeah. It’s really beautiful there. I get that, for sure.” Then he adds: “-you guys should go visit, then! For a concert, or maybe a tour —they have KCon there too. Also Toronto. I bet you guys have tons of Canadian fans.”

 

“I hope so. It’d make Mark really happy. Both things —returning home, meeting all the fans. I guess we could discuss things with our company and go on from there.”

 

“Sure, yeah, sounds great. Hey, what was his name again?” Shawn grins, almost feeling a blush on his face. “-the one who really likes me?”

 

“Doyoung. Kim Doyoung —he’s one of our main vocalists. He’s got a _really_ good voice.” Jaehyun picks at the dust balls on his sweater sleeve. _Now if I could hit those higher notes as easily as…_

 

“Mm, I’m sure he does.” He pauses. “-hey, actually, could you not tell him I’m coming over tomorrow morning? I want it to be a surprise.”

 

“Sure! That’s a great idea. Actually, you should hide somewhere and pop out when he arrives —it’ll be so funny.”

 

“Yeah? Have you done that before?”

 

“Yeah, at a show we were both hosting, but I wasn’t too successful. All he did was put his hands up and say  _Aigoo kamjagiya_ really unenthusiastically…”

 

“Oh, wow.” He chuckles. “-so I’m gonna have to try really hard to surprise him…”

 

“Or maybe not. You’re Shawn Mendes, he loves you. Who knows, maybe he’ll start crying when he sees you.” He turns, suppressing another snort when he sees Johnny practically suffocating from being unable to laugh out loud.

 

“Oh, my. Should I be concerned?”

 

“Not at all. I was just kidding. He’ll be really cool, probably.”

 

“Oh, good. Don’t wanna accidentally send somebody to the ER.” Shawn chuckles, relieved. “-hey, listen, it was great talking to you —don’t think I caught your name though—

 

“-Jaehyun. It’s Jaehyun.”

 

“Yeah. It was great talking to you, Jaehyun. And I look forward to meeting the rest of you guys. Especially Doyoung. I gotta go now, though. So, uh, see you tomorrow?”

 

“Yup. See you tomorrow. Take care.”

 

He hears the line go dead and hands the phone back to Johnny. They exchange glances, grinning and muffling their excited chuckles.

 

“Shawn Mendes is coming tomorrow.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Doyoung is gonna _freak_.”

 

“I  _know._ ”

 

“Great, now I won’t be able to sleep —I’ll be up all night thinking about it…” Jaehyun stretches, yawning, gets up and stretches again. Almost hits his knee into the desk.

 

“You should get some sleep though. Taeyong’ll be pissed you if you screw up at dance practice tomorrow.” Johnny goes over to the door, tosses him his jacket as he slips on his own.

 

“Oh _that_ I definitely know.” Jaehyun catches it, rolls his eyes, smiling. He joins him, holds the door open as Johnny picks up the Starbucks they bought for the rest of the group. “-come on. Let’s grab some food and then head back to the hotel.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can nct pls come to canada (preferrably toronto, but also vancouver so mark and us canadian nctizens can be well fed)  
> we have kcon here too okay  
> pls


	2. day one: 8 am

“Why are we here so early…?”

 

Doyoung squints, picking at the corners of his eyes. He covers another yawn, peers around at the mostly empty studio. It was spacious, not too much different from the one they had back home.

 

“Oh, you know.” Johnny shrugs. “-equipment testing, adjusting the mics and stuff. Don’t you wanna sound at least fantastic when you’re recording?”

 

“Yeah, we know how nitpicky you are about that stuff.” Jaehyun smirks at him, squeezing his shoulders, casually steering him away from the glass so Shawn could hide himself a bit better with his cap. He wore all black so from a certain angle, the reflections made him invisible.

 

“Yeah, sure, but didn’t you guys do all that yesterday? You came back at like almost 1am, I thought everything was all set already…”

 

“Yeah, but today is _today_ , yesterday was yesterday…” Johnny rolls his eyes, winking inconspicuously (at least as much as he could) at Jaehyun. Gives Shawn a thumbs up when Doyoung’s not looking.

 

Doyoung stares at them, brows raised, scrunching his nose. Something was up for sure. Plus Johnny was making a face that made him wanna punch him. Every time he tried to press his smile down, it sprung back up like a couch wire. It was infuriating.

 

“Go on. Check out the mics.” Johnny gestures to the room, ignoring Doyoung glaring at him cause he’s talking to him like a child. “-make sure everything’s working, you know, warm up your vocal cords, polish the speakers, etc. etc. etc…”

 

“Just...shut up…”

 

He snatches a water bottle Jaehyun hands him, looks at him funny when he tries to take it away from him afterwards.

 

“What? You’re afraid I’ll damage the equipment…?”

 

“Eh, well, you can never be _too_ careful…”

 

“If you want me to be careful maybe we shouldn’t have come here so goddamn early…” He muttered, letting go of the dumb bottle and heading into the recording room.

 

At first he just sees that someone is already there and he groans internally —he’ll have to awkwardly ask them to leave and if they’re crabby about it, it’s gonna affect his singing for the rest of the day. God, what a bore.

 

He takes a deep breath, but when he looks up again, the guy’s taken off his cap, grinning.

 

 

_Holy sh—_

 

 

Just like that his knees give way and Doyoung’s face is six inches from the carpet floor. His vision feels like soup and his throat like it’ll burst from how hard his heart is pounding.

 

He feels a hand on his back and the thrumming echo of someone’s voice asking if he’s okay, if he can stand up. Amidst the flurry of murmurs, he catches a shy, slightly wobbly _Aigoo kamjagiya?_ and he’s thinking _Shoot me, Korean now too? This can’t be real._

 

He squeezes his eyes closed, steadies his breathing and manages to stand up, though his legs feel like tofu. He doesn’t even look back, doesn’t dare to, as he scrambles out, mumbling _bathroom_ , he has to go to the bathroom.

 

The three of them watch Doyoung stumble out of the studio, almost crashing into some of the equipment, holding onto a few for balance. Almost trips at the ledge at the door, before disappearing into the hall.

 

Shawn exits the room, looking at them both, a bit worried.

 

“A-Aigoo kkamjagiya…?” He repeats weakly. Jaehyun snorts.

 

“ _Oh_ , yeah.” Johnny nods, hands on his hips, brows furrowed. “-aigoo kamjagiya level over 9000.”


	3. day one: 8:10 am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna add some more tags cuz theres gonna be more drama and nct127 than i thought lol
> 
> lol chapters lengths are gonna vary

“I think I’m gonna check up on him.”

 

Johnny slips his phone in his pocket, walks out, leaving Jaehyun and Shawn alone to contemplate how that could’ve gone any worse.

 

He makes his way to the restroom, thankful that it’s early and the hallway’s empty. The weak sunlight filters in from the far window (most of the lights are dead) and when he pushes open the door to the Men’s, the bright fluorescence is a bit disorienting. He peers down at the gaps below the stalls, finds Doyoung’s Keds at the third stall from the left.

 

“It’s Johnny!” He calls as he walks over, leaning against the door, knocks on it. He’s met with a grunt and a few muttered words. “-hey, are you okay?”

 

“Shut up, I’m completely fine.” Doyoung snaps. “-you know what, I’m not even that nervous —it’s just because you and Jaehyun were stupid and decided to buy burgers at 1 am —like who the hell does that—? God, my stomach feels like _soggy_   _ddukbokki_ …”

 

“Well, I think you’re kinda nervous. You know, maybe a little.” He bit his lip —Doyoung was fuming so hard it began to have a sound.

 

“You know, _maybe_ , I’d be a lot better if you _told_ me about—

 

“-which completely defeats the purpose of a _surprise—_

 

“-Who thought _that_ would be a good _—_

 

_“-_ Well, Jaehyun agreed to it, but it _was_ originally _Shawn’s_ idea—

 

“-But why _me_ specifically—

 

“-Maybe a little birthday present…?”

 

“My birthday’s in February, dumbass.” He said flatly. “-it’s the middle of _August._ ”

 

“Super late birthday present…?”

 

“Just cut the BS and tell me already!”

 

Johnny sighed, staring at the ceiling, rubbing his forehead.

 

“Okay. So,” He began, keeping his voice as level as he could. “-Jaehyun _might_ have told Shawn Mendes that you like him.”

 

“Like him?”

 

“Like you have a crush on him. A really big, obvious one. I mean, you basically declared it all over YouTube at all the US interviews we had. Everybody already knows, Doyoung. It’s not really a secret anymore.”

 

Doyoung sighs.

 

“...can you just shut up for one damn second.” _Are you trying to make up for your line distribution…?_

 

“So everybody already knows I like him.”

 

“Yeah, pretty much.”

 

“Everybody except for _him_ , though.”

 

“Well...yeah...until Jaehyun basically told him you’re completely and utterly in love with him…”

 

“Like what did he say.”

 

“Like _his eyes get all sparkly when he talks about you_ , you know, stuff like tha—

 

He flinches at the angry bang on the other side of the stall —clearly Doyoung’s head, followed immediately by quieter bangs and more fuming.

 

“ _Arghhhhh_ …I swear to God...I am gonna... _kill_ that little —you know what, I don’t even like him that much, so this just ruins _everything_ like—

 

“-What do you mean—

 

“- _What_ do I mean—? How do people act around the people who they _know_ _'_   _like’_ them? Huh?! He obviously doesn’t like me back —now he’s gonna treat me—

 

“- _better than Jaehyun can—_

 

“-Oh my God, _shut up—_

 

“Yeah, he really should’ve _had mercy, mercy, mercy on your heart—_

 

“-Johnny, you clown one more Shawn Mendes song, I will strangle you with a—

 

“-Well, I guess now _there’s nothing holding you back—_

 

Doyoung bursts through the door and shoves a huge wad of toilet paper in Johnny’s mouth, and they crash into the sinks —the back of Johnny’s jeans getting wet from stray water at the rim. He bites his finger when he tries to shove the toilet paper down deeper and Doyoung shouts, yanks his hand out. Breathing heavily, they sink down to the floor, just barely missing it though because it was damp too. Johnny coughs and spits out the tissue that hadn’t melted. When he’s done, they’re silent for a while. Then Doyoung snorts and they start laughing.

 

He doesn’t know how long they laugh for, but when they’re done, his stomach feels a lot better. He glances at Johnny apologetically.

 

“Sorry.” He gestures to the clump on the floor with his chin. "-about that..."

 

Johnny laughs, shaking his head.

 

“It wasn’t that bad. Could’ve used some salt though —it was really bland.”

 

“Hey. Did I do anything to your vocal cords? Crap, that couldn’t have been hygienic either —what do people take in case of infections, I mean, you can’t _swallow_ Polysporin so—

 

“- _Doyoung_ , I ate an unwrapped Kinder egg that I found on the ground back in Chicago. Didn’t know how long it was there. But it was a dare. And I ate it.”

 

“-Did you get sick?”

 

“-Yes, I got the bubonic plague a week later and died. You’re talking to my clone now.”

 

“I’m serious.”

 

“I was  _fine_.” He rolls his eyes. “-I think I caught a cold afterwards, but it was like, October, and I always get a cold around that time anyway.”

 

“Johnny, you could’ve died. Why were you so stupid?”

 

“I don’t know, man. I was weird, predebut was wild, yo.” He shrugs. “-pretty amazing the things you can do when nobody knows you.”

 

“Yeah.” Doyoung nods. “-like I could have totally _normal_ conversations with Shawn Mendes if Jaehyun _didn’t_ —

 

“-look at it this way. Who wants to have _normal_ conversations with the person they like? What if now that he knows you like him, you end up having _amazing_ conversations—

 

Doyoung makes a face.

 

“Did you pick up another Kinder egg from the ground and eat it this morning? Do you and the rest of NCT just go around _looking_ for Kinder eggs on the ground —oh, maybe that’s why there’s only _three_ brain cells in this group _which all belong to_ _Kun_ —

 

“-Look, look, it’s not all that, I got these.” Johnny begins to take something out of his pocket.

 

“I’m not in the _mood_ for magic tricks, Johnny.” He rolls his eyes.

 

“No, no —look. They’re blank. They’re note cards. We’re gonna chart your first conversation before it happens —there’s _no way_ you can screw up then.”

 

“Wait, what?”

 

“We’re gonna visualize your first conversation with Shawn Mendes, okay?” Johnny explains, dead serious. “-you tell me what you want to ask him or talk about —I’ll shorten it to one sentence each and write the Korean translation on the other side.”

 

“Then what?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Shawn Mendes is gonna say _something_ back…!” Doyoung groans, throwing his head back. “-he’s not a _houseplant_ , Johnny!”

 

“We’ll worry about that later.” Johnny waves it off, digging for a pen. “-look, baby steps okay?”

 

“Why do I feel like we’re gonna baby step into a giant vat of turds…” He muttered under his breath.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.” Doyoung shakes his head, sighing. “-let’s get it.”

 

**...**

 

**8:28 am**

 

When they’ve finally returned, Jaehyun and Shawn are sitting down, backs facing the control board, in the middle of doing their scales. Shawn’s got out his guitar and strums out the note Jaehyun’s trying to hit —he’s having trouble with his A4. _The struggles of a baritone._ Doyoung feels a hint of sympathy. He’ll warm up later —he didn’t want to look like he was mocking him.

 

“Maybe we should take a break.” Shawn suggests. “-your voice’ll get overworked if we keep going.”

 

“Okay. You’re probably right.” Jaehyun looks to the side, disappointed, “-it’s not just that though —my B3 sounds flat too. I don’t know what’s going on…”

 

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

 

“Not much.” He shrugs, half-smiling.

 

“You should get some rest then. Like take a power nap or something.” Then Shawn rolls his eyes. “-okay, don’t look at me like that —I’m serious.”

 

“Yeah, Jaehyun —come on, let’s go.” Johnny calls from the door, arms crossed. “-we can go to a really secluded corner at Starbucks or just a bench outside or something.”

 

“I don’t like sleeping in public…”

 

“Yeah, cause you’re too attractive so people just end up snapping pictures of you and you can’t sleep.” He rolls his eyes. “-yo, Shawn —you know any quiet, dark places around LA where you won’t get stabbed?”

 

“Sorry.” He shrugs, chuckling. “-I’m kinda new here too.”

 

“Oh, well. Thanks anyways. Jaehyun, come on —let’s give Doyoung a chance to warm up too.”

 

He nods and goes over to Johnny, squeezing his shoulder. Then Johnny whispers into his ear _Act natural._ Doyoung almost flips him the bird. Then the two of them are gone and it’s just him and Shawn. _God,_ he thinks, _does the room get brighter when he’s in it or is it just my imagination?_

 

“Hey.” Shawn shakes him out of his reverie. “-Doyoung, right?”

 

“Y-yes. Kim Doyoung. A-actually, my real name is _Dongyoung_ —

 

“-O-Oh, should I call you that instead? Which do you prefer?”

 

“Doyoung. Doyoung is fine.” He says, going over to sit next to Shawn. He hopes he doesn’t notice his legs are shaking. He starts to tap one of his feet to disguise it.

 

“Well, you already know me.” He chuckles. “-so, what do you wanna do?”

 

_Shit._ This wasn’t in the note cards. They always planned it so Doyoung was asking the questions first —what was he supposed to do now? Okay, think. He could say they could start warming up, but that would just lead them into going through a bunch of notes —no good conversation there. They’d probably have been unable to exchange a single sentence by the time Johnny and Jaehyun get back. Time is imperative. He doesn’t know how long Shawn will be here, he’s gotta make it count.

 

Which somehow led him to:

 

“Uh, c-can I ask you s-some ques...tions…?”

 

Doyoung winces internally. _Open mouth, insert foot._

 

Thankfully, the Lord is good and Shawn is an angel.

 

“Sure, no problem. What do you wanna know?”

 

“H-how are you here…?”

 

“H-How am I here?” Shawn mumbles, running a hand through his hair. _Does he mean that literally or philosophically, like how I came to be on this Earth because frankly, I don’t know either —I mean nobody actually remembers being born so for all we know we could’ve all been born from a petri dish in some weird dude’s basement —wait, obviously he means literally. Obviously. Obviously. Damn it, Shawn._

 

“Uh, well…” He began. “-I, uh, flew to the LAX by plane,” Spreads his arms out straight, making plane noises. “-then I took a taxi, well, an Uber, but same thing.” Makes a steering wheel with his hands, hoping Doyoung will understand the car isn’t his —he doesn’t know how to show the money adding up at the front with any understandable gestures.

 

“-then I got lost —idiot, I know,” He makes a searching gesture, looking both ways, then a making his arms into a W for confusion. “-so I had to _walk_ for a while—

 

“- _No, no, no, no, no, no_ …” Doyoung cuts in, squeezing his eyes shut. _Shoot, wrong word._ “I mean, _why —_ why are you here?”

 

“ _Oh_. Okay. Okay, well, um, so…” This is a lot harder to explain with his crappy Shawn sign language, so he just skips the backstory and says: “-actually, I want to do a collab—

 

“Collaboration!” Doyoung blurted out. Thank God, they were asked this question at literally every US interview they went to —he had this word stacked in his permanent English vocabulary folder in his brain library now. There was a reason he didn’t talk much —he was listening intently (okay, fine, periodically from time to time—some interviews went over 40 minutes, okay?) and storing as many new words he could into his memory.

 

“Yes! Yes, collaboration!” Shawn pointed at him, excitedly, equally relieved. It was _so_ hard to act out ‘collaboration’ by yourself. Last time he tried to in charades, he just looked like he was trying to make a pie.

 

They looked at each other, both wanting to high five, or find some kind of way to congratulate the other for understanding. But the moment came and passed and then they were just sitting there staring at their knees, running their hands over the chair legs.

 

“Um,” Doyoung piped up. “-let’s warm up, now, maybe?”

 

“S-Sure! Okay! Let’s do it!” Relieved to finally have something to do with his hands, he grabs his guitar —almost drops it, and gets his fingers into the right positions. “-okay, so, which scale do you wanna do?”

 

“Scale? Uh, it goes like—” Doyoung sounds out the one that he always does first _._

 

“Oh, you mean melodic scale. Okay, gotcha.” Shawn pauses. “-which other ones do you do?”

 

“Okay, also this one—” He runs through another. “-and this one—” Then he goes through one more. “-and also this one—”

 

When he’s done, Shawn just stares at him for a few seconds. He doesn’t look mad though. Quite the opposite, really —but it still makes Doyoung a bit embarrassed.

 

“What? What’s wrong?”

 

“Oh, no, nothing’s wrong.” Shawn shakes his head, blinking from his daze. “-it’s just your voice is…”

 

“Yeah, I know, it’s kinda—

 

 

 

“-beautiful. Doyoung, your voice is beautiful.”

 

 

 

 

He forgets to breathe. He can feel the note cards in his back pocket but somehow he knows if he takes them out there’d be no difference if they were blank. Erased, one by one, all the words, all the sentences he’d ever planned earlier. Gone, just like that.  

 

“Ah, areumdawo…” He finds himself saying. “-areumdawo —it means ‘beautiful’ in Korean.”

 

“Oh, cool —okay, I’ll try.” Shawn offers. “-a-aromdawa…?”

 

“No, it’s more like a _reum_ da _wo_.”

 

“Okay —arumde _wo_.”

 

“Almost —it’s a _reum_ dawo.”

 

“A-A _reum_ duwa…?”

 

Doyoung sighs. It’s a good thing he’s cute.

 

“Better. Much better than before.”

 

“I’ll try harder.” Shawn insists. “-I mean, you speak Korean _and_ English—

 

“-and some Japanese, Chinese and Thai.” Doyoung couldn’t help but add.

 

“-Eh, look at that.” Shawn sighs. “-and then there’s me who just gets by in English, can barely order a sandwich in French and can't even name all the colours of the rainbow in Spanish…”

 

“It’s okay.” Doyoung shrugs. He didn’t understand most of the words, but he gets it based on the tone. “-practice makes perfect.”

 

****...** **

 

**9:56 am**

 

“ _Ugh_ , why can’t I hit that note…!”

 

They’ve been trying to reach Shawn’s E5 for almost seven minutes. His C5 rung smooth and clear and his D5 was passable, but when he got to his E, he just ended up scratching his throat.

 

He’d put his guitar down to the side —he’s sweat too much. He’s downed three bottles of water and Doyoung has insisted he should go to the bathroom twice now, but Shawn was not one to be defeated. He would hit that note if it meant squeezing his bladder for another thirty—

 

“-You know, for me.” Doyoung suggested. “-I find it helps when I think something that hurts —like when I hit—” He kicks out his foot. “-onto table leg.”

 

“Oh, me too.” Shawn agreed. “-when I sing “When You’re Ready” I need to hit a G5 —I know, crazy, when my E5 sucks this hard —but yeah, so I imagine I’m getting kicked right in the nuts.”

 

“Nuts?” Doyoung knows what he means (he’s hung around Johnny long enough to learn), but it was always fun to pretend not to understand certain words. “-peanuts? Walnuts? H-hazelnuts…?”

 

“N-no. I mean, uh, um…” He realizes how awkward it will be to make the shape with his hands, so he just gestures weakly at their respective groins. “-yeah...those…”

 

“Those...not nuts…”

 

“Oh, yeah? What do you call them in Korean?” Realizing what he just said when Doyoung blushes, he stammers: “-oh _shit_ , shit, crap, crap, crap — _nonononono_ , never mind, never mind, _forget_ I said that—

 

He closes his eyes, groaning at himself. _Nice, Shawn. Nice going, now he thinks you’re a messed up guy who just talks about balls in his free time. Fantastic._

 

“Y-You know what, eh, Doyoung, let’s talk about something el—

 

“-  _Incoming—!”_

 

Doyoung sees it in slow motion. He follows the trajectory with his eyes, but somehow his hands are much slower and he tries to deflect it from its path and just misses it —that speeding missile in the form of a  _Very Berry Explosion_ muffin heading straight for Shawn’s—

 

There it was. Yes, there it was. Yes, it was pinched, rushed and edging on piercing rather than pleasant, but it was there, it was there —ringing loud and clear and plain across the room.

 

Jaehyun claps first, followed by Johnny, hoping to distract him from what just happened.

 

“Great G5, Shawn!” Johnny praised, still hammering out his standing ovation. “-man, the only time I can ever hit that note is when I get kicked in the—

 

His voice wheedles out when he sees Doyoung glaring icicles at him. He picks up the ironically half-exploded muffin and sighs. It was gonna be a long day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the kinder egg thing ain't real, i just made it up lmao


	4. day one: 1:42 pm

“He asked you about _what_?”

 

They’re seated at a table outside of Chipotle, having a quick lunch before going off to dance practice. Doyoung sighs, picking the tomato slices out of his burrito, not even wanting to look Jaehyun in the eye. Johnny was staying over a little longer at the studio to chat about production-related issues.

 

“You know what, I don’t even wanna hear that coming from you — _who_ got me into this friggin’ mess in the first place—

 

“-Okay, but maybe he likes you too.”

 

“- _What_?” Doyoung scarfs, some of the beef falling out of his mouth. “-what do you mean?”

 

“I mean, he was talking about _nuts_ —you don’t talk about nuts with just  _anyone—_

 

“-Oh, okay, _how to tell if a guy likes you_ —number one: does he talk about balls when he’s around you because if he  _does_ , then he’s _totally_ —

 

“-No, I mean, like, it means he’s _comfortable_ around you.”

 

“That doesn’t mean he _likes_ me…” Doyoung rolls his eyes. “-Jaehyun, I like Shawn Mendes, that doesn’t mean I’m _comfortable_ around him.”

 

“How do you feel when you’re around him?”

 

Doyoung drops his burrito onto the plate, glares at the spokes of the umbrella above them. He’s glad they’re in LA and speaking Korean.

 

“Like my ass is two inches away from a _Bunsen burner_ , you idiot!”

 

Jaehyun sighs. He looks around at the people around them, relieved that they were mostly ignored. They probably thought Doyoung was yelling about the stock market or something.

 

“And how do you know he doesn’t feel like that when he’s around you?”

 

“Because he talks in full, unbroken sentences?”

 

“Doyoung, your broken English isn’t because you’re nervous, it’s because—

 

“-Well, I’m sorry _Mr. I lived in America for four years —_ if you haven’t noticed, you aren’t talking to one of your own kind, but a  _Mr. I lived in America for four days_ —

 

“-Look, Doyoung, that’s not an issue—

 

“- _Not_ an issue? Jaehyun, don’t lie —look at how easy and smooth _you_ and Shawn are getting along because there’s no language barrier. Or _Johnny_ and Shawn. You guys can joke around —for God’s sake you guys can fling Shakespeare sonnets back and forth at each other if you wanted to.”

 

“How does that matter?”

 

“Maybe that doesn’t matter for everyone but, Jaehyun, look at yourself. Even people who don’t mean it end up flirting with you. I almost think Shawn likes you the way I like him. I mean, you _did_ have a headstart with that phone call—

 

“-Doyoung, I don’t _like_ him like that. He’s a cool guy and all, but I—

 

“- _like_ Taeyong —yes, we know, literally _everybody_ knows —in fact, I don’t even think SM would mind hosting the wedding reception as long as it still _promotes_ NCT—

 

“- _Doyoung_ —

 

Now it was Jaehyun’s turn to blush. If it really was that obvious, why didn’t Taeyong ever respond? If he really was as good-looking and charming as everyone said he was, why was it so hard to get Taeyong to understand that—

 

“-Whatever, Jaehyun —look, everyone still thinks we’re complaining about the Dow Jones. They probably think ‘Taeyong’ is the Korean term for, I don’t know,  _authorized shares—_

 

“- _Anyways_ , back to my point. What I’m trying to say, Doyoung, is, the problem isn’t your English. You need to have more confidence in yourself. You’re a Korean idol for crying out loud. You and Shawn are basically equals.”

 

“-well, he...he _did_ say I have a beautiful voice…” Doyoung admitted quietly.

 

“What did I tell you?” Jaehyun declares, open arms, leaning back, relieved the attention finally moved away from himself. “-you just need to be patient. Love doesn’t happen overnight.”

 

Doyoung says nothing, fiddles with his burrito wrapper.

 

“...s-sometimes it does.”

 

“That’s not the kind you want.”

 

“Oh, and _you_ would know.”

 

“Well, I don’t but—

 

“-Oh, just wait for it to turn out that Jaehyun was a total  _Casanova_ before debuting as a pure, uprighteous Kpop idol. It’d make _headlines_ , the way Dispatch snaps pictures of you everywhere you go.”

 

Jaehyun looks uncomfortable again, not touching his spicy chicken wrap. Doyoung sighs and looks off to the side.

 

“I’m kidding. You’re literally perfect, Jaehyun. The media actually can’t find anything incriminating about you. How do you do it?”

 

“Well, I—

 

They’re interrupted by the buzz of Doyoung’s phone. He slides off the lock and sees he’s got a new message from an unknown number.

 

_hey, it’s shawn. mind helping me pack up and maybe grabbing lunch somewhere? :)_

 

“Who is it?”

 

“It’s Shawn.” Then Doyoung narrows his eyes. “-wait. I don’t remember giving him my _number…_ ”

 

“Er, Johnny might’ve given it to him, before you guys met in the morning.” Jaehyun mumbles, eyes looking everywhere but at him. Suddenly his chicken wrap seems immensely more appetizing. “-he might’ve also told him that you know the hottest joints around LA.”

 

“ _What?_ Jaehyun, I’ve been here for _four days_ , I don’t know the hottest joints any more than a _Martian_ knows it’s way around the _Rubicon..._ ”

 

“-Just take him here again.”

 

“To _Chipotle—_?” Doyoung scoffs. “-do you _want_ me to show up at practice tomorrow or stay on the toilet for the entire day?”

 

“Eh, if it makes you feel any better Johnny also gave our numbers to him too. You know, in case he needs anything.”

 

“You know what?” He leaned in, digging both elbows into the table, ignoring the sauce getting on his sleeves. “-honestly, I don’t even _know_ how to feel about that. Are you _and_ Johnny trying to date him too? Is this the _NCT LA Bachelor —_ you know before you dive into polygamy you _might_ wanna ask Shawn for his permission—

 

“- _Shhh_ —Doyoung, people are starting to stare—

 

He pushes his chair back, stands up.

 

“We’re talking economy, okay?” He hollers at everyone and no one. “-Dow Jones...” He wrings his hands. “...sucks...” He stares at the sky. “- _nuts..._ ”

 

**...**

 

**2:23 pm**

 

They _do_ end up going to Chipotle again, though.

 

Doyoung finds out Shawn didn’t bring enough money to afford any of the high-end places. He didn’t blame him. Food wasn’t cheap around here and he was more of a poutine kind of guy anyways.

 

All that practicing in the morning must’ve made Shawn hungry because the man bought three deluxe burritos plus a double side of sweet potato fries and tuna club sandwiches (from the Applebee's next door), a medium coleslaw, a burrito bowl and a generous slice of apple pie —not to mention a giant Oreo shake he insisted on sharing with him. _No, seriously_ _I can’t finish this by myself, man. Then why buy it? Yolo. Plus, I had a coupon._

 

“Eh, Doyoung —look!”

 

He raises his head, and then sighs, giving him a weary but fond smile. Shawn tries to fit all three burritos into his mouth and it sort of made him look like that vampire lady on the DVD cover of _American Horror Story: Hotel._ Except that he was cuter. Way cuter.

 

It happens in a second. Shawn bites into the badly stacked smorgasbord and the bottom of the first one bursts open and shoots a tomato slice and a spray of beef and honey mustard all over Doyoung’s face.

 

Shawn drops his burritos, smile gone.

 

“Oh, my God — _shit, shit, shit_ , —I’m so sorry —goddamnit, ughhh, _why am I like this_ …”

 

“Uh, Shawn, y-you’re, kinda…” Doyoung appreciates the effort but Shawn doesn’t have napkins so instead of wiping the stuff off, it’s more like he’s just moving it around his face.

 

“Okay, crap, you know what, I’m gonna stop making it worse and get some napkins—

 

“-Shawn, I can, uh, just, go to the, uh, bathroom—

 

“-No, no, no, it’s my fault, I gotta take responsibility for my mistakes. Here.” He dumps out the remaining sweet potato fries onto the tray and flattens the carton. “-use this to hide your face in case the Korean paparazzi try to snap candids of you.”

 

Doyoung smirks, chuckling.

 

“Very funny, Shawn.”

 

“Seriously though, you just stay here. I’ll be right back.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Doyoung watches him disappear into the diner again, picks the remaining tomato off his face. Takes a bite, frowns in approval. Honey mustard was not bad.

 

When Shawn came back, Doyoung’s face was almost clean —he’d scraped off most of the sauce and beef with the flattened carton and eaten it.

 

“See? All clean.”

 

Shawn laughs, setting the napkins on the table. He reached into his backpack for a water bottle, dampens a few papers, starts to wipe Doyoung’s face.

 

“Almost. You’re still kinda orange.” He grins. “-a bit too much like the current president for my taste…”

 

“Oh, Trump?”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

“But I have better hair.” Doyoung gives him a better side view. “-you think so?”

 

Shawn laughs again.

 

“Of course.” He wipes off the last of the honey mustard below his jaw. “-better everything, really.”

 

“Better voice?”

 

“Oh, _way_ better voice.” He affirmed. “-God, I almost forgot his awful voice and now you reminded me again…”

 

Doyoung suddenly sits straight, pushes his hair back, tries to make his face more square. Pretends to hold a watermelon—doing his best Trump impression.

 

“ _My China.”_ Shawn snorts, blows a raspberry. “- _I love China. Believe me. We’re gonna take care of the—_

 

At this point, Shawn’s just shuddering, covering his face in his hands, not wanting the rest of his food to fly out of his mouth and hit Doyoung again. He raises a hand, telling him to stop and let him swallow. Doyoung rolls his eyes and complies, resuming his normal self.

 

“Aw, man. That was so good.” He wipes a stray tear, takes a swig of water. “-you know, Doyoung, you’re really funny.”

 

“You didn’t expect?”

 

“Nah, to be honest, no.” Shawn shakes his head. “-I Googled you after Jaehyun told me about you and I found a bunch of pictures of you being either really cute or really serious.”

 

“Really? Show me, come on.”

 

Luckily there’s wifi here and Shawn pulls out his phone, opens the tab labeled ‘doyoung nct’, tells Doyoung to scoot his chair over next to his. They scroll through the various pictures of him on Google Images.

 

“Ah, yes.” Doyoung nods, furrowing his brow at some of them. “-...that’s...my image, you can say.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve got one too.” He types his own name in the search bar. A moment later, dozens of images pop up, almost all of them nearly identical.

 

“Wow.” Doyoung notes, eyes going over all the photos. “-you look so...happy...”

 

“Yeah.” Shawn said. “-I guess I do.”

 

**…**

 

**10:42 pm**

 

Doyoung heads to his hotel suite, shivering from the powerful air conditioning in the hall. His clothes were all soaked from practice —he was in the dire need of a shower and then he’d just collapse on the bed and fall asleep. After lunch, they’d said their goodbyes for the day —Shawn sheepishly admitting that he still had to figure out living arrangements —he had friends in LA who said he could crash at their apartment anytime —but he _did_ call them a month ago. Doyoung wished him luck and then they’d gone their own ways.

 

Now that he thought about it, his day had been pretty weird afterwards. First, he’d bumped into Haechan who told him that Johnny had got him a present —a box of mochi apparently, from a “super cool Japanese shop we went to while you were too busy mooning around with your boyfriend” (which was wildly inaccurate —Shawn definitely _wasn’t_ his boyfriend, at least not yet anyways).

 

He didn’t take him too seriously —Haechan was always up to some sort of mischief so he just went on with his day. But then when he’d went to the restroom during practice he ran into Yuta and when he told him about what Haechan said, Yuta said Johnny _did_ get him something but it wasn’t mochi —it was a bicycle. A _bicycle_. Last time Doyoung rode a bicycle was when his age could be counted on one hand.

 

Throughout the rest of the practice the other members told him a bunch of stuff —Mark said Johnny got him a Nintendo —something more believable, but still kind of random all the same. Then Winwin told him it wasn’t Johnny who got him something, but _Jaehyun_ , and that it was a giant sack of purple tomatoes that were on sale apparently and had rare healing properties. When he’d asked Jaehyun about it, the guy just panicked and asked him if he was still holding a grudge against him or something. _Dude, seriously I have no idea what you’re talking about —purple tomatoes, I’ve barely seen any red ones around here —all they seem to sell around here is poutine, tacos, burgers and more poutine._

 

Taeil told him to forget all of it —nobody got him anything, “Just focus on your singing —that E3 is coming off kinda flat, huh?” and “You really need to concentrate on falling properly at that part in Cherry Bomb or you’ll  seriously snap your spine —if you’re too tired you can switch the choreo with someone else —Oi, Winwin! Switch with Doyoung for today—

 

That put his mind to ease, for a big remainder of the day at least. Then when he thought the whole mess was over, a hand cut the elevator door from closing and Taeyong came in. He seemed kinda spooked and Doyoung asked him if he’d gotten enough sleep last night. Taeyong shook his head and said it wasn’t that (he never got enough sleep anyways) —neither Johnny or Jaehyun had gotten Doyoung anything, but apparently _someone_ had broken into his suite and left a _5 thousand year old Neanderthal skull_ stolen from the Natural History Museum and hid it somewhere in the room.

 

The more he thinks about it, the more Doyoung thinks he should at least call somebody at hotel administration to check his room to make sure that everything was in order. But then he thought about how embarrassing it would be if they didn’t find anything and thought that he was wasting their time and ended up charging him extra for the trouble. Everything was fine. Everything was probably fine.

 

He pauses at the door. Doyoung leans his ear against the wood. For a frightening second, he thinks he hears someone breathing on the other side. Then he realizes it’s just his own and that he was getting paranoid which made his hearing do weird things. He swipes his card, opens the door.

 

And finds a motionless body on the bed.

 

Screaming and slamming the door, he races to the end of the hall, pounding on the last door by the stairs.

 

“ _JOHNNY!!!!!”_

 

**_..._ **

**day two: 1:02 am**

As it turns out, the “dead body” was a very much alive Shawn Mendes, completely swamped from going around LA trying to find that friends’ apartment that he could apparently crash at, at anytime. Unsurprisingly, anytime was anytime except for when they were out of state and competitively fishing in the Caribbean (for wild, exotic varieties for their aquarium business), because they didn't give him a spare key.

When he’d called his mom about it, she told him she didn’t trust him to stay at a hotel by himself. _Honey, I’m always hearing about those stories of young people getting stabbed to death when they stay at inns alone —go share a room with one of those nice Korean boys you told me you were meeting._ Shawn told Johnny about it and he said since NCT127 was a nine-person group, Doyoung was staying in a room by himself and could share with him. He told him not to worry about the cost —just think of it as a bro helping another bro out.

Which leads to his dilemma right now. It’s the middle of the night, he’s back in his own suite and Doyoung’s bad decision of going to Chipotle twice in one day finally started biting him in the ass (literally). He had to use the restroom now and he knew it wasn’t gonna be pretty. Shawn was snoring still —he must’ve really been exhausted, he didn’t stir even when Doyoung screamed and slammed that door. Maybe they’d have a good laugh about it tomorrow morning.

He can’t go here. Not with Shawn sleeping here too. He doesn’t know how long it would take the vents to clear the smell and he doesn’t wanna risk it.

As quietly as he can, Doyoung leaves and pulls out his phone in the hall, leaning against the door.

 

**not_a_bunny:** johnny u up

**shrimpdaddy:** lol i am now. whaddup.

**not_a_bunny:** can i use ur bathroom.

**shrimpdaddy:** lol wuts wrong with urs

**not_a_bunny:** shawn’s sleeping

**shrimpdaddy:** …

**not_a_bunny:**?

**shrimpdaddy:** wait.

**shrimpdaddy:** What.

**shrimpdaddy:** omg wtf doyoung

**not_a_bunny:**????????

**shrimpdaddy:** ur telling me

**shrimpdaddy:** u locked shawn in ur bathroom

**shrimpdaddy:** while he was still asleep

**_not_a_bunny signed off_ **

**shrimpdaddy:** like u dragged him in by the ankles

**shrimpdaddy:** omg how kinky are u

 

He sighs, rolls his eyes and tries someone else.

**not_a_bunny:** yo mark u there

**absolutelyfullycapable:** yea hyung. sup?

**not_a_bunny:** can i use ur toilet

**absolutelyfullycapable:** sure. urs not working?

**not_a_bunny:** no, shawn’s sleeping

**absolutelyfullycapable:** …

**absolutelyfullycapable:** wait

**absolutelyfullycapable:** whats shawn doin sleeping in ur toilet??????

**not_a_bunny:** OH MY GOD MARK HE’S NOT—

**absolutelyfullycapable:** shawn’s not dead, doyoung we told u already

**absolutelyfullycapable:** get him outta there or he’s gonna suffocate

**_not_a_bunny signed off_ **

**absolutelyfullycapable:** air circulation sucks in bathrooms

**absolutelyfullycapable:** hyung?

**absolutelyfullycapable:** hyung???

**absolutelyfullycapable:**???????

**absolutelyfullycapable:** ohmygod shawn’s actually gonna dieeeee

**absolutelyfullycapable:** i gotta tell johnny

 

Okay, he was gonna do this one more time.

**not_a_bunny:** lee taeyong let me use ur toilet and pls dont ask any questions i need to goooooo

**freakydeakyman:** yeah bro np

**freakydeakyman:** u ok tho?

**not_a_bunny:** i went to chipotle twice in one day wut do u think

**not_a_bunny:** on an entirely diff topic u should really change ur username

**freakydeakyman:** lol why

**freakydeakyman:** is it too cool for u B)

**not_a_bunny:** …

**not_a_bunny:** whtever im coming now

**freakydeakyman:** ok bro

**freakydeakyman:** …

**freakydeakyman:** actually

**freakydeakyman:** hold up

 

**freakydeakyman:** whoa

**freakydeakyman:** holy shit

**not_a_bunny:** tf taeyong im at the door already

**freakydeakyman:** sorry bro

**freakydeakyman:** jaehyun kinda…

**freakydeakyman:**...clogged the toilet

**freakydeakyman:** aw it nasty bro

**freakydeakyman:** trust me u don’t even wanna kno

**not_a_bunny:** ur right i dont

**not_a_bunny:** …

**not_a_bunny:** u better not be fking lyin

 

He shoves his phone into his pocket, clenches his glutes and dashes awkwardly back inside his suite. Slams the bathroom door shut, crashing onto the toilet seat.

 

He sighs.

“Goddammit.”

 

****...** **

 

**1:17 am**

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** johnny this is an emergency

 

**shrimpdaddy:** lmaooo u run out of ramen again

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** noooooo

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** it’s shawn

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** he’s gonna dieeee

 

**shrimpdaddy:** lol ur not funny

 

**shrimpdaddy:** go tf to sleep

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** im not joking johnny

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** im serious

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** doyoung put him in the toilet

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** he’s gonna suffocate

 

**shrimpdaddy:** shawn is a full grown man u stupid ass

 

**shrimpdaddy:** he cant fit in a fkin toilet…

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** ur a stupid ass

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** obv he didn’t put the whole body in the toilet

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** just the head  

 

**shrimpdaddy:** …

 

**shrimpdaddy:** and how do u kno all of this

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** doyoung told me

 

**shrimpdaddy:** tf bro

 

**shrimpdaddy:** doyoung wouldn’t tell ANYOne if he killed a man ok

 

**shrimpdaddy:** bc he actually uses his brain unlike SOMe ppl

 

**shrimpdaddy:** now gtfo johnny needs his beauty sleep

 

**_shrimpdaddy signed off_ **

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** wow dude

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** cant believe ur just gonna let shawn hyung die

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** some friend u r

 

  
**...**

 

**3:04 am**

**absolutelyfullycapable:** johnnnnnyyyyy wake tf uppppp

**shrimpdaddy:** jesus h christ wut kinda drugs u on man????

**absolutelyfullycapable:**...why r u awake too then

**shrimpdaddy:** …

**shrimpdaddy:** stfu

**shrimpdaddy:** wats the situation

**absolutelyfullycapable:**...u hear that sound?

**shrimpdaddy:** yes it’s the sound of me sharpening my axe if u dont tell me wut tf is going on

**absolutelyfullycapable:** just shut up and LISTen

**shrimpdaddy:** …

**shrimpdaddy:** holy shit

**shrimpdaddy:** tf is thatttttt?????

**absolutelyfullycapable:** u hear that gurgling too right????

**shrimpdaddy:** yeah???? tf’s goin on?????

**absolutelyfullycapable:** tf’s goin on????? i told u 2 hrs ago bitchhhh shawn’s suffocatinghggggggg

**absolutelyfullycapable:** we gotta save him!!!!!!

**absolutelyfullycapable:** it might not even be doyoungs fault

**absolutelyfullycapable:** he might’ve left him there by accident

**shrimpdaddy:**??????

**shrimpdaddy:** how tf do u leave someone in the toilet by accident????

**absolutelyfullycapable:** how tf would i kno?????

**absolutelyfullycapable:** do i LOoK like the toilet police?????

 

**_absolutelyfullycapable added freakydeakyman to the Group Chat_ **

**absolutelyfullycapable:** taeyong hyung wake tf up shawn is dyingggg

**freakydeakyman:** mark lee what next level skullduggery is this

**shrimpdaddy:** the toilet is clogged

**freakydeakyman:** yeah i kno

**freakydeakyman:** jaehyun clogged it with his chipotle stuff

**freakydeakyman:** wait

**freakydeakyman:** how tf do YOu guys kno????

**absolutelyfullycapable:** doyoung told us

**freakydeakyman:**?????

**freakydeakyman:** okay??

**freakydeakyman:** but why tho???

**absolutelyfullycapable:** nooooo u dont get it

**absolutelyfullycapable:** jaehyun didnt clog the toilet doyoung did

**freakydeakyman:** tf mark jaehyun is my roommate

**freakydeakyman:** i saw him clog the toilet

**freakydeakyman:** with my own two eyesssss

**absolutelyfullycapable:** wait

**absolutelyfullycapable:** you WATched him clog it????

**absolutelyfullycapable:**...ew hyung

**freakydeakyman:** …

**freakydeakyman:** somebody throw this kid back in grade school

**shrimpdaddy:** gladly

**absolutelyfullycapable:** serioulsy tf is WROng with u guyyyyyssssss

**absolutelyfullycapable:** doyoung clogged the toilet and shawn is dyingggggg

**freakydeakyman:**...

**freakydeakyman:** okay how r those 2 things related...

**absolutelyfullycapable:** doyoung clogged the toilet with shawnnnnn

**freakydeakyman:** okay that’s it

**freakydeakyman:** im calling hotel admin

**freakydeakyman:** johnny go check mark’s room for drugs

**shrimpdaddy:** roger that

**_shrimpdaddy signed off  freakydeakyman signed off_ **

 

**absolutelyfullycapable:** …

**absolutelyfullycapable:** wow y’all r like no fun

**absolutelyfullycapable:** like u got no jams

**absolutelyfullycapable:**...

**absolutelyfullycapable:** guess ill go bug hyuck now…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol sorry second half of the chapter got kinda wild  
> dw it's all solved in next chap :)
> 
> btw autocorrect tried to change Jaehyun into Hyundai, i almost died


	5. day two: 7:16 am

Doyoung wakes up and he can’t move. No, he’s not still on the toilet —he’s in bed now, thankfully, but he literally can’t move. For a second, he thinks it’s sleep paralysis, but then he realizes he can actually move certain parts of his body, like his right calf and left thigh sort of. And part of his right arm.

 

He breathes in and the smell of someone’s cologne is so strong it almost makes him vomit. He blinks and wipes the crusts out of his eyes  with his movable arm, blinks a few more times. Feels his eyes focus and take in the surroundings before him.

 

Like Shawn’s naked torso.

 

Wait.

 

_Oh my God —what the f-_

 

 _Why is he naked. Why is he naked. Why is Shawn naked. Last time I walked in here he was still wearing his clothes. Shit, last time I walked in here he was still wearing_ shoes _._

 

Doyoung cranes his head (as well as he can) down, breathes a sigh of relief when he sees _he’s_ still wearing all his clothes (even his socks). Okay. So they couldn’t have possibly done anything crazy last night, otherwise he’d be naked too.

 

_But why is he naked?_

 

Shawn stirs and Doyoung stiffens, literally unable to figure out what he was going to say to him when he woke up. He hears him yawn and stretch his arms, knocking a hand across his face —but he brushes it off, Shawn’s still half-asleep, he doesn’t know any better.

 

Shawn blinks, scrunching his nose.

 

“Nn…” He squints down at himself. “-wait, why am I naked…?”

 

_So he doesn’t know either..._

 

Doyoung shakes his head (as well as he can as he’s still half-crushed under him).

 

“N-no idea…” Then he struggles a little. “-Sh-Shawn, uh, c-can you…”

 

“O-oh…! S-sorry. Yeah, sure…!”

 

Shawn lifts a leg and an arm and Doyoung feels as though a tank has been raised off of him. Wind rushes into his lungs and leaves him lightheaded for a few moments. It’s good thing he’s only half-awake. He’d probably pass out all over again otherwise. He sneaks another glance at Shawn when he’s not looking. _Wow._ So Beyoncé wasn't the only one who woke up like  _this._

 

Doyoung yawns and stretches, pushing the covers away. Gets up partially, resting on his elbows, brushes hair out of his face. Rummages the lamp side table for his phone. Dials Johnny.

 

“I’ll call Johnny about…” He gestures at Shawn’s general state.

 

A groggy _yeoboseyo_ buzzes from the other side. Doyoung exhales, miffed. Johnny was in some deep shit, that’s for sure.

 

“Don’t _yeoboseyo_ me, smartass _—_ what in the name of Jisoos Christ happened last night?”

 

_“Uhh...what do you mean…? Bro I just woke up you gotta give me more to go on…”_

 

Right to the point then.

 

“Okay. Why’s Shawn _naked—_?”

 

He hears a snort from his roommate and can’t help but smile a little _—_ some things in language really were universal.

 

 _“Wait, what…? Oh, shit. Wow, they really didn’t...Okay, to be fair, it_ was _like, 3 in the morning.”_

 

“What the f _—_ _three_ in the morning _—_  Are you trying to tell me some _Hangover_ level shit happened last night _—_? Did you lose Shawn in LA while you guys ran around strip clubs, hammering drinks, blowing money at bikini _—_

 

 _“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Doyoung, while I appreciate your overactive imagination, might I remind you that not only are we not as rich as we think we are, but that Jaehyun is the only one who can decently handle his liquor  —last time Taeyong passed out from his “apple juice” recall that it was_ me _who had to carry him all the way back to our hecking hotel. Skinny legend or no, bones weight a lot too, you feel me—_

 

“-Okay, okay, I get it, Johnny _—_ just tell me what the hell happened _—_

 

_“Okay, so I guess that Mark sort of started—_

 

“-Why am I not surprised. Why am I not frickin’ surprised that _Mark_ of all people _—_

 

_“Okay, okay, Doyoung —before you start pointing Chipotle-covered fingers at Mark Lee, I’m pretty sure this shitfest really started when you and Mark had a misunderstanding over text m—_

 

“-I asked to use his toilet, he asked me why.” Doyoung responded flatly. “-I say Shawn’s sleeping and then he just _—_

 

_“-tells the rest of us that you murdered Shawn and clogged the toilet with his head —yes, we all know —while you were peacefully emptying your Chipotle into the toilet we were running around trying to figure out what the fuck was actually going on—_

 

“Wait _—what_ ?! He thought I _killed_ Shawn _—_ I swear to God, this little _sh—_

 

_“-Doyoung, calm down—_

 

“-I’m _in love_ with Shawn, Johnny, why would I _kill_ him _—_

 

_“Doyoung—_

 

“-This ain’t some 18th century _Hamlet_ level sh _—_

 

_“Uh, actually Hamlet was 16th century—_

 

“-Does it _look_ like I give a f _—_

 

_“-Okay, okay, so moving on, Taeyong noticed that something fishy was going on—_

 

“-Which ain’t much to praise the Lord about _—_ seeing that he _does_ somewhat have a brain while Mark miraculously survives on the beginnings of a _notochord—_

 

_“-so he decided to call hotel admin and have the room checked. So security might’ve strip-searched Shawn to make sure he was unharmed after they found you passed out on the toilet, put your pants back on and dumped you on bed—_

 

“-And just casually dumped Shawn’s half naked body on top of me _—_

 

_“-and casually dumped half-naked Shawn on top of you, yeah—_

 

“-Because obviously I’m not a person, I’m just an extra mattress someone snuck into the room _—_

 

_“-Yeah, something along those lines, anyways so—_

 

“-why does security oddly sound a lot more like _Haechan_ and _Yuta—_

 

_“-because, it, uh, might've actually been them because it was 3 in the morning and hotel admin weren’t exactly in the mental and physical position to properly head a murder investigation—_

 

“-and yet Haechan and Yuta were because they secretly work in the FBI and NCT actually stands for _National Crime-analysis Team—_

 

_“-not bad, Doyoung, I’m sure they’ll get a kick outta that one. Anyways nobody harmed your precious Shawn-sarang, okay —they just might’ve decided not to put his clothes back on because people weight a lot more when they’re unconscious—_

 

“-would you have preferred if he _was_ conscious during the strip-search because then one ninth of NCT might have been rendered _National Deceased Crime-analysis—_

 

 _“-actually Shawn doesn’t appear to be a terribly violent man and also he’s Canadian so if he_ were _to kill somebody and they were having a panic attack, he might actually call them a therapist first and then ask them if—_

 

“-Yes, yes, Shawn’s an angel, I’m well aware, now could you please be a little more like him for once and kindly tell him what the gregarious fuzzle-nut happened last night _—_

 

_“Nope, bro, that’s all you. You explain it to him and don’t leave out a single d—_

 

“-Johnny, please excuse my language, but what the _f—_

 

_“-think of it as a couple-bonding moment, okay? Make him laugh and before you know it you and him will be getting wedding papers read—_

 

“-And I should listen to _you_ about this because…”

 

_“-Uh, hello? NCT’s No. 1 Love Guru here and open for business? I’ve almost got Jaeyong up and sailing so—_

 

“-Oh yeah, and how's JohnTen doing, might I a _—_

 

_“-Being temporarily delayed by TaeTen 'cause Taeyong’s an indecisive ass—_

 

“-you know, polygamy isn’t necessarily a bad thing _—_

 

_“-Yeah, sure thing, so what was all that about me and Jaehyun giving Shawn our numbers—_

 

“-Well, yeah, long as y’all stay the fuck outta _my_ burgeoning romance, y’all can hoe around wherever the hell you w _—_

 

_“-Noted. I’m at the door. Got you something to help explain things to Shawn. Hurry up, I’m in my underwear so—_

 

“Oh, my.” Doyoung smirked, making his way to the door. “-should I be concerned.”

 

“No, not, really.” Johnny spoke into the phone, as he opened the door. “-Haechan and I were playing beer pong at 3 am last night so _—_

 

“-and Haechan is _—_

 

“-not 21 yet, I know, so we used milk _—_

 

“- _milk—_

 

“-and he got some on me. I was too lazy to change, so yeah. Here.” Johnny handed him a plastic board.

 

“ _Etch-A-Sketch._ Really.”

 

“Come on, it’ll be fun. It's art _—_ intellectuals dig that shit.”

 

“Johnny, I can’t draw. Last time I drew a cat Jaehyun thought it was dust.”

 

“That was you?”

 

“Oh, I don’t remember anymore _—_ half the shit we did in Korea doesn’t even feel real sometimes _—_

 

“-Okay, okay, just remember. Act natural.”

 

He did flip him the bird this time. Johnny laughed and jogged back to his suite.

 

Doyoung turns around, shyly glancing at Shawn again, who just grins and waves for him to come back. With the sunlight coming in from behind him (and his shirt still gone), he really was nothing short of dazzling. Doyoung felt like one of those weird people who wanted to put their crush in a corner so they just could stare at them all day.

 

“So…” He began as he climbed back onto the bed, holding the board before him. “-I try...to explain...last night…”

 

“And you’ve got a visual aid too,” Shawn chuckled, clapping his hands together. “-sounds great.”

 

**...**

 

**8:49 am**

 

“So let me get this straight…”

 

They try to catch their breaths, both lying down, the edges of their arms and legs touching. Shawn’s hair brushes the side of Doyoung’s ear when he turns to him, grinning, the middle of his face rosy with laughter. The _Etch-A-Sketch_ had been kicked to the ground, covered in overlapping stick-people and horribly drawn toilets.

 

“ _Mark_ thought you _murdered_ me _—_

 

They burst out laughing again.

 

“No, no _—_ he _tells_ everyone that—

 

“-Okay so he _told_ everyone that you murdered me and stuffed me into, what,” Shawn leans back, reaches over his head around the bottom of the bed, retrieving the _Etch-A-Sketch,_ squinting,starts laughing again _._ “-a, an igloo, a _mini fridge —_ oh God _,_ what _is_ this…?”

 

“I-It’s a t, _t—_ ” Doyoung cuts himself off, snorting, looking at him with mock-dismay. “-a… _toilet_ …”

 

“ _Okay…_ ” Shawn nods, seeming to buy it. “-a toilet…” Then he snickers, gesturing to the numerous scribbles around it. “-now what's all _this_ stuff…?”

 

So Doyoung explains, as best as he can, wonky English and all, all the little events surrounding the main incident last night. He throws in names to make it easier _—_ Shawn nods at _Jaehyun_ and _Johnny_ , learns about some members he knows less well. Sometimes the drawings are too squished together and he has to act out the stuff, making Shawn laugh all over again. When he thinks he’s covered everything, he mumbles an almost fluent _that’s it_ , lays the board on the bed between them, looking at the ceiling. Shawn follows his gaze and sighs.

 

“So, what was the point of all of it?” He frowns slightly. “-what started this whole complicated mess?”

 

Doyoung sighs.

 

“I...uh...had to use…” He shuts his eyes, wanting to save himself from seeing the reaction. “-um, toilet.”

 

“Last night?”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

“Why didn’t you just use ours?”

 

He turns to Shawn, wrinkling his nose, then not meeting his eyes. 

 

The other returns a slightly exasperated, but nevertheless sympathetic look.

 

“Doyoung, everybody’s stinks.” He shook his head. “-it’s okay _—_ seriously, I don’t care about that kind of stuff. Really.”

 

“I did go...after…” He turns his gaze back to the ceiling. “-feel fine now.”

 

“Good. I’m glad.”

 

After a while, a funny gurgle emanates between them. Shawn frowns, brow furrowing.

 

“Shit, I’m so hungry…” He feels his stomach. “-aw, I forgot to have dinner last night…”

 

“Then let’s go. Somewhere to eat,” Doyoung takes his hand, gesturing to the door with his chin. “-come on.”

 

“Yeah okay _—_ you choose.” He nods, getting up, then falling back down. “-somewhere close, maybe? My legs still hurt from all that walking…”

 

As they make their way to the door _—_ Doyoung having to drag him a little because Shawn’s heavy and doesn’t want to get off the bed, mumbling about how comfy the pillows are. Asks him to slide his shoes over from beneath the bed, slips into them and sighs, going along with him.

 

Doyoung notices Shawn didn’t shrug out of his hand yet, and he smiles, privately, has to appreciate the small victories sometimes. Then he turns to him, a bit flustered.

 

“...no Chipotle.” He looks to the side. “-please…?”

 

Shawn laughs, shaking his head.

 

“Sure thing. No Chipotle.”

 

**...**

 

**1:07 pm**

 

“Hey, you okay?”

 

Mark looks up at Taeyong, sitting across from him at the desk. They were at the LA recording studio working on their own tracks for now _—_ they’d told Shawn they’d help out with the collaboration sometime later this week. They were busy, as always, still had a ton of things to figure out and organize.

 

“I don’t know…” He thumbs through the lyric papers in front of him, making some unnecessary notes to distract himself. “-I feel like I might’ve messed up, hyung. Like big time.”

 

“You mean, yesterday?” The other frowns. “-you’re still thinking about that?”

 

“I mean, it was just a joke _—_ you know, how we all joke around and stuff, right? But like, Shawn’s not really in on all our craziness, so maybe he didn’t find it funny at all. Maybe I ruined things _—_ for him and Doyoung.”

 

“Shawn wouldn’t get mad at you for something like that. He wouldn’t _—_

 

“It was really dumb what I did, I was so…” He sighs, covering his forehead with his palms. “-you know, not just this, sometimes I wish I could take back all the times I _—_

 

“-Mark, chill. You’re overreacting _—_ you know it. Why are you saying all of this stuff?”

 

He looks at him, not looking like he wanted to say anything.

 

“I don’t want you guys to think I’m dumb and immature because of the way I act sometimes. I can’t help just saying stuff on my mind without a filter now and then and it makes it look like I never reflect on anything I do, but I _do_ , hyung, seriously.”

 

“We _know_ that, Mark.” Taeyong assured him, furrowing his brow. “-we know you work just as hard as the rest of us and if you act silly sometimes we get that _—_ I mean, how else are you supposed to handle all the stress, huh?”

 

“Then why does Doyoung always think I’m stupid or something _—_

 

“-You know he doesn’t. Hey, you have your way of teasing people, so does he. And anyhow, you didn’t actually do a bad thing _—_ in a way, you _helped_ him, you know.”

 

“Sure doesn't feel that way…”

 

Taeyong puts down his share of pages and crosses his elbows on the desk, leaning his chin on his arms.

 

“Doyoung’s a perfectionist. And while that shows in what he says, it shows less obviously in the things he doesn't.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“A bunch of things.” Taeyong shrugs. “-he doesn’t tell me everything, obviously _—_ nobody does, especially people like him who like to handle things on their own. But he did decide to tell me some things while we were shooting for ‘Yestoday’. Maybe the vibe of the song helped, I don’t know.”

 

“What did he say?”

 

“You know how we read the comments on our MVs sometimes?” He chuckles, looking to some indiscernible spot on the carpet. “-Doyoung goes through them, and sometimes they really get to him, even when he knows they shouldn’t.”

 

“What _—_ are they talking shit about him or something? Isn’t he one of the better members at ignoring the antis?”

 

“It’s not that.” Taeyong shook his head. “-he doesn’t pay attention to nonsense. It’s the uncomfortable facts that disguise themselves as jokes that actually hurt him.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“The fact that Winwin hardly gets any lines in our songs and how Doyoung’s singing ironically goes mostly unnoticed because of how good it is. Those two things hardly seem related but, we all know Doyoung’s pronunciation is better _—_ it’s not his fault, it’s just a matter of experience of being surrounded by the language and culture much longer than he has.”

 

Taeyong stops and looks to the side again, a bit irritated.

 

“Doyoung said he blames himself sometimes _—_ he _was_ one of the members who really wanted Sicheng to practice his Korean more so he’d improve faster, but they don’t hang out that much to practice _—_ for what Doyoung guesses is because his mentor-like attitude makes him _boring_ or something _—_ anyways, he has all sorts of tiny self-criticisms he doesn’t tell any of us _—_ what I know is just, you know, tip of the iceberg.”

 

“But it's not just pronunciation, you know. I mean…” Mark trails off, not wanting to bring it up.

 

“Yeah, the fact that he’s not Korean plays a part too, but Doyoung only focuses on things he _can_ control. So he feels really shitty whenever he reads things that say he gets plenty of lines while Sicheng gets next to nothing because in a way it’s almost like they’re blaming _him_ for it.”

 

“I don’t think people mean it like that, though,”

 

“We don’t know what people actually think, Mark.” Taeyong shook his head. “-I mean, jokes are always made at the expense of someone else, right?”

 

“Yeah, I get that.” He said, scratching at some of the dried bits of hair dye on his scalp. “-but you said that I _helped_ him in a way. What do you really mean by that?”

 

“I mean that Doyoung is overly critical about himself to the point that sometimes he thinks that his human qualities are weaknesses. We all do that from time to time, but for him, it tries to control everything he does _—_ even something as trivial as using the bathroom you’re sharing with someone you respect.”

 

“I mean, I don’t think Shawn cares about that kind of stuff.”

 

“He doesn’t _—_ but Doyoung convinces himself that he does because he thinks the people he admires think the same way he does, about himself _—_ it’s just a defense thing, we all convince ourselves the people we like think like us to give ourselves more confidence they might like us back.”

 

“...how much of your day do you spend thinking about things like this?”

 

Taeyong laughs, wiping something from his eyes.

 

“You get better at reading people the longer you’ve been around them, Mark.” He said quietly. “-and I also haven’t always acted in a way I’d be proud about _—_ you tend to learn a few things from experiences like that.”

 

Mark is silent, hands laced together, leaning down, resting his mouth on his fingers.

 

“So sometimes Doyoung needs to remember that he’s human and that people won’t reject him for it.”

 

“And that the people who do aren’t worth his time.” Taeyong shrugs, getting up, slotting the papers under his arm. “-also, Johnny called Doyoung about everything and apparently it’s all been sorted out. So don’t worry so much.” He chuckles, grinning. “-or you’ll end up bald before I do.”

 

“Oh, fat chance.” He snorts. “-but  _—_ thanks, Mom. I guess I feel slightly less crappy now.”

 

Taeyong raises his brow, walks off without a comment. But just before he reaches the door to, he stops. Mark sees his shoulders shake a little, the side of his face shift slightly _—_ a soft chuckle leaving his mouth.

 

**...**

 

**2:42 pm**

 

When Taeyong comes back out the recording room, he sees Mark concentrating very hard on something on his phone. It reminds of him the way some people build model cities with Lego.

 

“What are you up to?” He looks over his shoulder, frowning at the brightly coloured rectangles Mark’s shifting around with his finger.

 

“Just making a few changes to my schedule. Trying to fit things in better _—_ more important stuff first, that kind of thing.”

 

“Huh. Maybe I should look into that too. I really need to clock in some more sleep these days…”

 

“By the way, what’s Doyoung and Shawn doing _—_ they weren’t here in the morning, apparently.”

 

“Oh, they’re hanging out at Johnny’s, with Jaehyun, Yuta and Haechan. He had some leftover Subway sandwiches in his mini fridge so they had breakfast there and now they’re probably just having some fun before practice.”

 

Mark nods, lifting his brow at something on his phone. “-hey, Taeil and Winwin are already at practice _—_ they’re just doing some modifications to the intro choreo.”

 

“Tell them not to change my parts.” Was that a hint of exasperation?

 

Mark closes his phone for a second and turns to face him.

 

“Honestly, though, you should listen to your own advice sometimes.” He said quietly.

 

“Look, I appreciate your concern _—_ but I wouldn’t add in anything I can’t handle. Plus I’ve already gotten accustomed to doing it this way  _—_ if I change it now, it might affect my performance on the day of.”

 

“And that matters to you, more than…”

 

“It has to.” But he can’t look him in eye when he says it. “-anyways, how long do you plan on sticking around?”

 

“Maybe a while longer. You can go first.” He goes back to his phone, glancing up when he speaks again. “-I think I’ll Skype the Dreamies and make sure everything’s going alright back home.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I get that there's a lot on the characters other than doyoung and shawn, but I feel like it gives the story a fuller feel. it's kinda hard for me to separate doyoung completely from nct127


	6. day three: 10:11 am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update: awks korean sub formatting...*low-key cries in nctzen*

“Okay, so you put the piece of plastic _here_ and then you—

 

They’re seated cross legged in a badly made circle, just like yesterday —Yuta demonstrating the game by putting the thin plastic square over his mouth. It’s a lot harder to talk like that, so Johnny explains the rest. Shawn sits between Doyoung and Jaehyun, and Doyoung contemplates if this whole idea is a big mistake.

 

After being unable to find the nearest McDonald’s after Shawn’s phone died (along with their only working GPS —someone did some shit to Doyoung’s phone and now it would only ever lead them to the nearest _Chipotle..._ ), he called Johnny who said he still had some leftover stuff in the fridge they could eat and plus — _There’s a bug going around McDonald’s, dude, some cyanobacterial shit —I dunno bro, I stopped taking bio after like, 6th Grade, but like, it’s in all the salads which means it’s in all the burgers too —you really think they put different lettuce and tomato in that shit, quit playing._

 

So after they had some more slightly stale Subway sandwiches (Johnny promised it wouldn’t give them cancer and coming from a guy who ate Kinder eggs from the ground, Doyoung decided it was good enough), Johnny called up Yuta and Haechan and decided apparently it was high-time Shawn got introduced to a bit of South Korean pop culture —which translated into playing the games Korean idols always did on variety shows.

 

They’d started with the pocky game, which soon ended —Haechan complaining they were no fun because they were all too chicken to get even a little close — _I don’t even have any good vids to show Mark and Taeyong hyung…_ Then they’d tried to play balloon ping-pong with a half-deflated Dora birthday balloon (which Johnny had, unsurprisingly, found on the ground yesterday) but without a proper table and a net to show the boundaries, everyone just started cheating.

 

Before Johnny could even finish explaining how to play the game where one member’s head went into a box while two others tried to guess who he was by feeling his face, Jaehyun interrupted him —concerned about the choking hazard — _What if your hand goes over the person’s nose or something —and their mouth too —Johnny, look, you have big hands— Oh, please, Jaehyun, you’re just scared Haechan will bite you when you touch him._

 

Which leads them to where they are now: Yuta about to (basically) kiss Johnny with nothing but that Bible-paper thin plastic square between them. _You can basically feel_ _the_ _other person’s mouth —what is even the point?_ Doyoung had asked Johnny at one point when they’d been roommates. _Koreans are very particular about herpes. They don’t wanna take any risks_. Doyoung had snorted. _Yeah, the specific strain known as The Gay._ Johnny had shrugged, somewhat defeated. _Yeah, well. Change doesn’t happen overnight._

 

“U-Uh— one quick question—” Shawn cuts in, before Yuta puts his mouth on something other than air.

 

“Uh huh?” Comes out sounding like 900 year old toothless turtle because Yuta’s trying to keep the plastic on his mouth.

 

“W-What happens if it falls off before you—?”

 

“-What do you think—?” Johnny laughs. “—we’re all hot, bro, so it’s not even that much of a punishm—

 

“- _Johnny…”_  Doyoung and Jaehyun roll their eyes and groan at the same time. Though the latter _does_ muffle a chuckle towards the end, though.

 

“It’s no big deal.” Haechan pipes up. “-we kiss each other lot, actually. It’s Korean thing.”

 

“Oh, r-really?” Shawn looks over at Jaehyun for help, who does chuckle this time.

 

“Er, it’s more of a _Haechan_ thing... We'll use a new one, don’t worry.” He explains. “-we’ve got over a dozen.”

 

“Yeah, man —don’t pick it up from the floor —you’ll get McDonald’s herpes without actual McDonald’s…”

 

Doyoung barely hides a snort, mouthing _Kinder egg_ and Johnny makes a sour face when Shawn’s not looking.

 

The first round goes pretty smoothly. The key to keeping the plastic on is to go fast  —the tiny sheet did get a little stuck when it reached Haechan, but he blew at it with just the right amount of breath for it to land back to Yuta. Then it’s all good until it gets to Jaehyun —he misses and jokingly turns towards Haechan —who _goes_ in for it anyway, but he only gets his left jaw because the other yanks back, in (gay) panic.

 

“Okay, new round!” Johnny shouts, grabbing another sheet from the container. “-I’ll start, this time!”

 

He leans into Doyoung and the sheet flies off because the other snorts at his duck face and their mouths just miss each other —Johnny laughing when Doyoung vigorously wipes his lips with his sleeve.

 

“I didn’t even _kiss_ you…” He sputters.

 

“Yeah, but your breath particles smell _nast_ —

 

Johnny smacks him in the shoulder and they laugh for another two minutes.

 

“Okay, _I_ start.” Haechan announces, sitting straighter. “-you guys — _no skills_.”

 

He slaps the plastic over his mouth, breathes in and goes in the opposite direction —giving Jaehyun a _istg_   _i_ _mma kick ur ass if u screw up_ look and the other catches it, just barely —his face sort of trembling when he turns over to Shawn, so the sheet doesn’t completely cover their mouths, but Shawn takes it anyway and he’s so into the game that he doesn’t stop when the plastic falls off just when his lips are on Doyoung’s.

 

It takes him a few seconds to register it. He realizes he’s closed his eyes, he opens them —he can’t believe it. _Oh, my God. Oh, my God, it’s happening._

 

_I’m kissing Sh—_

 

He pulls back, hand over his mouth, blushing severely.

 

Doyoung would’ve run straight out of the room if he didn’t sneak a glance at Shawn and see him blushing just as hard.

 

The room is silent for a few seconds and then Haechan goes:

 

“ _Oh, psshh—_ you guys —like _babies_.” He rolls his eyes, looks up at the clock in the corner, snatches another plastic sheet. “-come on —last round—

 

“-Haechannie, look!” Yuta cuts in. “-Doyoung-hyung is frozen —like my PC, last night when we watching ani—

 

“- _Oh, USA…”_ Haechan groans, grasping on Doyoung’s face, exasperatedly kissing him out of his reverie. Doyoung blinks, makes a nauseted face and Haechan sticks out his tongue.

 

Everyone sits there, laughing awkwardly —then Johnny saves the day and suggests to end the games with a few rounds of broken telephone, where they line up instead of sit in a circle.

 

“What about the fluffy headphones?” Haechan asks him.

 

“Just plug your ears really hard.” Laughs when the other rolls his eyes at him.

 

Soon _I’m the biggest hit on the stage_ turned into _Fight_   _the biggest shit on a steak_ —Shawn almost passes out when he declares it out loud at the end. Then they tried _Fly to you, dive to you —jikjeob I can make it make it work for you_ which became _Fry tofu, dry tofu —cheetah bacon make it make it worm kung-foo._

 

“Okay, okay, one, one, l-last one.” Jaehyun managed, the only one who could speak just well enough before bursting out laughing like everyone else.

 

So they did _Ollawa, girl, long ass ride_ which unsurprisingly became _Oh, llama, burp, long gas pipe._

 

“I swear to God —I’m _done_ with y’all...” Johnny shook his head, but soon ends up laughing with the others all over again.

 

**...**

 

**9:48 pm**

 

When Doyoung comes back to his own suite after practice, Shawn’s not sleeping. He’s seated on his side of the bed, leaning against a pillow he’s propped up behind him, running through a few chords on his guitar.

 

“Not tired?”

 

“Not yet.” Shawn laughs. “-hey, come over here. Let’s go over a few songs.”

 

“No, no.” Doyoung shakes his head. “-I shower first.”

 

“Oh, okay, sure!” He nods, a bit embarrassed when he notices his clothes are all soaked in sweat. “-you must’ve worked really hard...”

 

“Haha, yeah.”

 

After shutting the door, Doyoung kicks off his pants, tosses his shirt right onto the floor, recoiling from the smell —he’d skipped his shower last night and was so disoriented today he’d forgot to change into clean clothes. He gets self-conscious for a second and wonders if Shawn had smelled his day-old sweat and was just too nice to mention it. _You know, your sweat actually smells good to the people you’re most sexually compatible with,_ Johnny had mentioned at practice, laughing when Doyoung raised his brow at how he knew this — _only thing I remembered in Grade 9 health class, trust._

 

When the water hits his neck, Doyoung wastes no time to squeeze way too much shampoo onto his head and scrub until he felt more foam than hair. He uses the soapy suds that slid down his shoulders to scrub the rest of his body —a bit harder than usual, though he hardly notices. He’s thinking about something else.

 

If he brushes his hand over his mouth again, he can recall it in an instant. He feels a mix of different things, not all of them happy. He wishes it had been more natural. _It was just during a game. It doesn’t count. How can something like that count?_ But at the same time, he can’t completely brush it off as nothing. It still happened.

 

And what if he wanted to do it again? Would Shawn agree, under the pretense that he thought it was a game again? Did he think this whole thing was a game —just them having fun with each other?

 

He almost imagines kissing Shawn for real —stops himself before he gets too far in. He opens his eyes, looks at the marble-tiled wall, then the white curtain, foggy with mist. He was dreaming again. He needed to be more realistic. He needed to be grateful for once.

 

He brings his head under the shower spray and lets the water wash out the foam, no hands. He wants to dream a while longer before he goes back out.

 

**...**

 

**day four 1:40 am**

The lights are out. Doyoung and Shawn sleep facing away from each other. There’s a light, though, near the roof of the window facing him —he couldn’t find the off switch for that one, so even with the curtains drawn, it still hits his eyes. Doyoung sighed. It’d be a while before he fell asleep.

“Hey. Doyoung?”

“Nn...?”

“Oh, good. You’re still awake.” He chuckled. Then he paused. “-I, uh, I just wanted to...ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“You know, um, after the _thing_ happened, you were sort of really quiet after that.” He murmured. “-are you feeling okay? I’m just wondering if I did something wrong.”

“N-no, no. It’s nothing.” Doyoung shook his head, still not facing him. “-nothing wrong.”

“Really?”

“Really. I’m fine.”

Shawn is silent. He still seems a bit upset, now Doyoung wonders if _he_ did something wrong.

 

Then he sighs.

“Doyoung, I’m sorry.”

_What? What is he saying? Why is he…?_ Then Doyoung finds himself almost swallowing his own breath when he realizes the only reason he could be apologizing, but then Shawn cuts in:

“-Look, I’ve been unfair, you know, all this time, making you speak English, when I know it’s not your first language —I mean, how are you supposed to explain things accurately with all th—

He cuts himself off and sighs, frustrated at himself.

“-Tell me how you feel about that whole thing, or right now —just say all of it in Korean, okay?"

 

Doyoung is speechless. It's not what he expected at all.

 

It takes a few moments before Shawn speaks up again —softer, calmer than before.

 

"You know, I noticed these past few days, you would sometimes look at me with this expression on your face and I’ve been trying to figure out what it was.”

“Yeah?” Doyoung almost laughs, he’s been found out, for sure.

“Yeah —like there’s all these things you want to say, but can’t. And I get it, I get it completely because I feel like I probably make the same face when I talk to you.”

It's quiet again. Neither says a word, wanting the reality of it to sink in for a bit longer. Doyoung remembers something he's read a while ago — _Sometimes you pretend not to know what you know. Sometimes you pretend not to know the truth because it's easier._

 

“So, you want me,” Doyoung paused. “-say everything in Korean?”

“Everything." Then he laughs. "-seriously, just forget about me for a second. Or pretend I can understand everything. Whichever you wish.”

“Okay.”

_I wish it didn’t happen like that (_ _Naneun geuleohgedoeji anh-ass eumyeon johgessda)._ _I wish either it happened when it was supposed to, or that it didn’t happen at all. (_ _Naneun geugeos-i il-eo nass-eul ttae il-eonan geos-igeona jeonhyeo il-eonaji anh-ass eumyeon johgessda)._ _I feel like I don’t know what’s going on anymore (_ _Deo isang_ _museun il-i beol-eojigo issneunji moleugessda)._

_I don’t even know how long you’re staying here (_ _Nega eolmana olae yeogie meomulleo issneunjijocha moleugessda_ _)._ _Maybe all this trying to understand each other will be for nothing (_ _Eojjeomyeon-i modeun geos-eul seolo ihaehalyeoneun nolyeog-eun amuleon daegaga anil geos-ibnida)._ _Maybe none_ _of it will matter in a few days (_ _Ama geugeos-ui amudoneun myeochil man-e jung-yohaji anh-eul geos-ibnida)._

_Maybe when you leave I’ll remember you while you forget me. Maybe I’ll—_

_(Neoga tteonal ttae nega naleul ij-eul ttae neoleul gieoghalgeoya. Eojjeomyeon_ _—)_

 

He wants to say more, but even in his mother tongue, he can’t seem to speak past a certain level of privacy. It’s not the same as when he’s alone. Shawn is still here, whether he understands or not. It’s not that simple.

Shawn says nothing for a while.

 

Then he faces him —Doyoung realized he’d turned to his other side while he’d been emptying his thoughts, all across Shawn’s back (he’d thought it was not much different from talking to a wall).

“Do you really mean all that?” And for a second, Doyoung believes he actually understood everything. But then it’s gone.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He said. “-okay. I understand.”

“You don’t.”

“No, I do. I understand.” Shawn repeated. “-I don’t understand what you said. But I understand.”

Doyoung furrows his brow.

“Doesn’t make sense.”

He sees Shawn smile —this time, not happy at all.

“I know.”

Then he feels Shawn’s hand slide into his, lacing their fingers together, saying nothing. Later Doyoung hears him mumble something —doesn’t know if he’s dreaming or awake. Realizes he’s probably dreaming because he’s mumbling in Korean. Doesn’t know if it should matter or not.

_“It’s not a waste. Doyoung, it was never a waste.”_

_(Nangbiga anibnida. Doyoung, gyeolko nangbiga anieossda.)_

**  
**

 

 


	7. day four: 7:46 am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i'll be able to do a double chapter update :)

When Shawn wakes up the next morning, he thinks it’s raining. There’s a steady, low drumming coming from somewhere but when he turns to the window, he sees sunlight peeking through the gaps of the curtains. He also sees that Doyoung left.

 

He has the sensation he’s still dreaming or at least, partially. Last night he’d stayed up until around 4 am, headphones on, cold glow of his _Acer_ laptop over his face, getting caught up on all of NCT’s music. Funny, he found himself getting excited every time he picked out Doyoung’s verses within the songs —somehow, his was the only voice that stayed distinct in his mind in the blur of these past few days.

 

Even though Shawn’s forgotten what the lyrics meant now, some lines still ring in his head:

 

 _...modu dashi taeeonan geotcheoreom nae segyero wa_ _  
_ _dadeul mul mannan deut noraehae..._

  
  
He didn’t know how to explain it properly —it was like he understood what was being conveyed even though he didn’t know the exact words. Did it really exist, this understanding without really knowing, or was he just kidding himself?

 

He thinks about what Doyoung said last night, again. Somehow, he felt like he _knew_ what he was saying. And somehow, after all that intensive late-night listening, it seemed to make a tiny bit more sense.

 

 _Naneun geuleohgedoeji anh-ass eumyeon johgessda..._ _eolmana olae yeogie meomulleo issneunjijocha moleugessda_

 _...Ama geugeos-ui amudoneun myeochil man-e jung-yohaji anh-eul geos-ibnida._   


_Neoga tteonal ttae nega naleul ij-eul ttae nneoleul gieoghalgeoya. Eojjeomyeon—_

 

Shawn can only recall bits and pieces of it, and it just sounded like a blur of sounds in his mind yesterday, but today less so. Later, at some point in the night, he came across Doyoung’s solo tracks. After he listened, he had no words. His laptop screen indicated it was 3:52 am. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe Doyoung’s voice wasn’t real.

 

It was a strange feeling he had, after he’d put his laptop away, lain back down to try to catch an inch of sleep. Did Doyoung _really_ admire him? His singing wasn’t worse than his —in fact, it seemed better, a lot better, if what he’d heard last night was any indication. Could it be that Doyoung simply liked his songs? Possibly, but he didn’t think the lyrics he wrote stood out in any particular way either.

 

Maybe Doyoung admired him for something else. Shawn wondered if he would ever tell him what it was.

 

He had to stop this. Stop comparing himself to every other singer he met. Had to stop feeling like crap whenever he felt like he didn’t measure up. _Oh, he’s just famous because he’s attractive. What makes him so different from all those other privileged Bieberesque white guys with their sappy guitars, plaid shirts, and bad relationships, crooning love songs? Hell, he should just quit and go into modelling —who knows, maybe he’ll make even more that way._

 

_Why’s he getting all this attention for being mediocre…?_

 

Sometimes he doesn’t know whether it’s what he reads in the comments when he makes headlines on Billboard, or if they’re just his own messy thoughts swimming in his head. Wherever the first thought came from, it opened a flood in his mind and then he wouldn’t be able to control the rest.

 

_At least Doyoung can sing. At least he can—_

 

The bathroom door opens and Doyoung walks out, only a towel wrapped around his waist. He looks in Shawn’s direction but doesn’t seem flustered like he usually was. _He must think I’m still asleep. I guess I’ll pretend a little longer._

 

Doyoung disappears briefly, and Shawn realizes he’s getting a change of clothes from his gym bag when he hears the soft thud of some dark lumps hitting the bed. He watches him turn around and nimbly slip on his underwear while still keeping the towel secure. Then he loosens it and musses it over his wet hair, still completely oblivious that Shawn wasn’t asleep.

 

Shawn doesn’t get why Doyoung gets so nervous when he’s around him. For one thing, he had a _great_ body. Even with his eyelids mostly shut, he could still see the outline of his abs, his well-defined chest. _Damn, no kidding, he works hard. Oh, jeez —what am I saying—?_

 

Then with just his sweatpants on, Doyoung leans over him, reaching for something under his own pillow. _Isn’t that, isn’t that just the hotel shampoo? H-Has it always smelled this good? Whoa, whoa, whoa wait —now his chest is like two inches from my face. Oh, whoa it’s still damp. Oh, God, it smells even better than his hair—_

 

_-Shit, Shawn stop it, stop it —stop it, no—_

 

 _dodaeche nado naega wae ireoneunji_ _  
_ _na tto wae nappeun jit hago sipeunji—_

 

_-Oh, jeez, fantastic, Shawn —now you’re getting Doyoung to voice your own damn thoughts for you—_

 

He felt something wet hit his face, then Doyoung grimaces, muttering something in Korean. Reaches a hand into the drawer to get some napkins, wipes the water off Shawn’s forehead. _Sorry._ He says that in English.

 

He almost answers with _It’s okay , it’s so okay —oh, wait, shit —I’m still dreaming, right, right._ He tries to make it look like he’s mumbling something in his sleep.

 

It takes him more than a few minutes to calm down.

 

Jeez. It was these kinds of things that always bugged him. He had the same issue when he was with Camila. Shawn thinks that if he hadn’t played that game with the other members of NCT yesterday, he’d probably never have been brave enough to kiss him.

 

He’d hoped that Doyoung might’ve taken the hint afterwards and at least held hands or something when they walked back to their suite. But Doyoung had been really quiet afterwards, maybe even more reserved and withdrawn than usual. _Maybe he really doesn’t like me that way. Maybe I read into it too much when Jaehyun said he really admired me. It’s probably nothing more than polite admiration, then. Yeah. Polite admiration. That’s all._

 

Shawn sighs quietly, disguising it as a yawn. A few days ago, he wouldn’t have minded. Initially when he’d heard about it, he’d just thought it was cute that someone admired him. He’d planned on just meeting him, saying hi, maybe getting lunch and then leaving it at that. He hadn’t expected things to have happened the way they did.

 

He hadn’t expected to feel like this, now.

 

He’d come really close to kissing him again, last night actually.

 

After Doyoung had come out of the shower, already fully dressed, they’d stayed up for a while, going through some of Shawn’s old songs. At first, Shawn just wanted to see how many of them Doyoung knew —then after he found out Doyoung even remembered then ones he himself forgot about, they stopped for a while, the other laughing while Shawn collected the remains of his ego.

 

Then when they started again, Doyoung surprised him, telling him to play Charlie Puth’s “We Don't Talk Anymore” (after an awkward encounter of a shirtless pic of him on Shawn’s phone and a red-faced confirmation that No, Charlie _wasn’t_ his boyfriend _—_ or romantically linked to him in _any_ way, for that matter) and not to stop when he came in. He nodded, and when he reached the final chorus, Doyoung came in, but this time, with altered lines perfectly harmonized with his.

 

_We don’t talk anymore, oh, oh (Wishing you’d just call one more time, can still hear your voice in my mind) Oh, the way I did before_

 

_We don’t talk anymore, oh, woah, (Now I know I can go start again, but no, now that won’t be the same)_

 

_Oh, it’s such a shame_

 

_We don’t talk anymore  (I know, I know)_

 

He hadn’t noticed how close their faces had gotten until the song was over. Wondered if Doyoung always got this close with someone he sang with, or if it was just him. Wondered if his lips were really as soft they looked right then.

 

When they looked at each other —Doyoung with those eyes, Shawn was sure he was going to go in for it. So sure he didn’t even lean in himself. He thought he didn’t have to.

 

Shawn shook his head afterwards — _stupid, stupid, stupid —maybe he expected you to be the forward one. Maybe he was just waiting for you to do it._

 

_Shit._

 

_Why’d you have to get scared again?_

 

He turns to his side and tries to fall asleep again. Almost exhales out loud when it’s not darkness that greets his face when his eyes close.

 

**…**

 

**11:37 am**

 

When Shawn wakes up again, he finds that he’s sitting up, though eyes barely open. Feels something soft hit his face, then another one hit his lap. Clothes? Hears a familiar voice in the distance. Rubs his eyes, realizes it’s Doyoung.

 

“Hurry up!” He hollers in Korean. Then in English. “-can’t come to studio —practice and shows all day today.”

 

“-I, I’m coming too…?” He barely mumbles out.

 

“Anywhere you need to go?”

 

“Nn, I guess not…”

 

“Then, come on!” Korean, again. Then back to English. “-get changed —leaving in five minutes!”

 

“Uhhh…”

 

He falls back on the bed, just moving his clothes around in his hands. Doyoung doesn’t seem too impressed about it this time though, sighing and saying:

 

“Shawn, stop being baby —everyone’s already waiting in car.”

 

He mumbles an _okay_ , and gets his clean pants half on, to his knees, before he lies back down, groaning. _Shit_. _Were they always this tight?_

 

“N-no, no, no.” He shook his head when Doyoung tries to get them all the way up. “-I can’t, I can’t, I’m too fat —God, it must’ve been the Chipotle…”

 

“Shawn, you’re not fat —this,” He looks down at the sweatpants. Then grits in Korean. “-crap, crap, wrong pants, wrong pants, these are mine...”

 

Muttering more apologies in Korean, Doyoung strips the rest of it off and digs in his luggage for a few seconds.

 

“Here.” Throws an almost identical pair at him again. “-Johnny’s. Borrowed yesterday.”

 

“Uh huh.” This time Shawn can pull them up without much trouble. “-and I bet you had to roll them up a little?” Demonstrates with the cuffs.

 

Doyoung rolls his eyes.

 

“Ha. Real comedian, yeah?”

 

He soon realizes the shirt he’d tossed at him earlier wasn’t his own either —slightly tight around the underarms, but it’s within his range of tolerance. When he’s finally dressed, Shawn just sort of stares at him, a bit dumbfounded, a lot still asleep.

 

“What? You want me carry you?”

 

“...please?”

 

First, he looks at him with _You can’t be serious_ , then to Shawn’s surprise —agrees. _But_ —he adds — _you carry me tomorrow._

 

“Mmhm.” He grunts, already falling back asleep as Doyoung grips the back of his thighs, hoisting him up.

 

Luckily, the elevator is mostly empty, save for a few preschool-age kids who think the sight is quite amusing rather than weird.

 

“Is he your boyfriend?” A girl grins, pointing at a sleeping Shawn.

 

Doyoung laughs, decides to nod, seeing the hopeful expression on her face. “-yeah, sort of.”

 

They all clap when the two of them finally make it to the rented taxi, Doyoung rolling Shawn to the back —positioning his head safely along Taeil’s shoulder — _So the bride carries the groom this time, huh?_  Which is met with a nonchalant eye roll.

 

“Hey, where’s he gonna go when we perform?” Haechan calls from the front.

 

“We’ll just sneak him backstage, Hyuck, haha. Security’ll never know.”

 

“Mark —we’ll just _tell_ security about him? We want to keep him in one piece, yes?”

 

“I was kidding, Taeyong-hyung —sheesh.” Johnny has to reach an arm back to keep him and Doyoung from actually almost fighting for real.

 

“Kids these days…”

 

Taeyong snorts.

 

When they reach the stadium’s back doors, with the help of Johnny on the other side, Doyoung shields Shawn from the flashing lights, occasionally reaching an arm over their own faces too.

 

Once they’re in, the stark white fluorescence gives Doyoung a brief migraine and he curses when he trips slightly from half-empty water bottles tossed carelessly on the floor. He wonders how much of Shawn’s weight Johnny is hoisting because by God, did he not expect him to weigh _this_ much. Maybe he _was_ getting a bit fat. He scolds himself for having that thought, a minute later.

 

“Alright, you guys get that room over there.” A stagehand directs them to the fifth door down the hall on the left. Doyoung notices a few performers shoot them snide looks when no one is watching, but it’s understandable —they were a large group so they almost always got the most comfortable rooms.

 

Jaehyun unlocks the door as Doyoung and Johnny haul Shawn down the last leg of the journey, dropping him gently onto the worn sofa on the west side of the room. He sleepily shifts to a more comfortable position as Doyoung peruses the clothes rack for passable blankets — _God, why does fashion have to be so painful,_ he thinks, eyeing, though half in admiration at a spike-studded leather jacket. He agrees on a couple rain jackets with soft, fleecy undersides, an oversized _#ican’teven_ sweater and a pair of boyfriend jeans worn silky smooth.

 

Carefully layering them over each other, he blinks when Shawn stirs underneath, wrinkling his nose, lashes fluttering. Smiles faintly when Doyoung brushes some curls out of his eyes.

 

“Comfortable?”

 

“Nn. It’s a bit chilly though.”

 

“I know.” Doyoung points to the vents by the ceiling corner. “-big air conditioning.”

 

“Mm.” He paused. “-you gonna go soon?”

 

“Later.” The other looks to the door. “-twenty minutes.”

 

Shawn follows his gaze, then moves his eyes around the room. It’s messy, but in that lived-in kind of way, mirrors lining one wall —smudged with the occasional stage makeup, bowl-shaped lamps clipped on their corners, casting soft crisscrossing moons over linoleum counters dusty with setting powder and littered with colourful sticky notes. Black fold-up chairs draped with unwashed hoodies, scattered around the room, damp from the towels thrown on top. There’s even a mini fridge at one corner of the room with a faulty door, leaking near the back —you can smell the sharp stink of day-old beer and club sandwiches.

 

He’d never felt particularly comfortable in backstage rooms —he preferred trailers where he could bring some of his stuff and make it feel more like home. With Doyoung here too though, it didn’t feel that bad.

 

“Hey. When’s the last time you saw your family?”

 

“Family? You mean, parents?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Doyoung is quiet, shifting his gaze to the layers of clothes. “-mm. Last month, maybe?” Feels his eyes sort of glaze over at the swathes of mismatched colour. “-last, last month?”

 

“You don’t remember?”

 

“No.” He wants to say he didn’t stay long —maybe had dinner, then slept for the night. Had to leave before breakfast to catch the train back to Seoul. Barely talked the night before, and just about mundane, trivial things. It was still nice though —a glimpse of life before. “-sometime, you know, the days…” He gestures with a weary twist of the wrist.

 

“Sort of blend together.” Shawn curled one corner of his mouth. “-yeah. I know.”

 

“Gong Myung.” He continues when Shawn raises his brow. “-my brother, older. We see sometimes. Stay in touch.”

 

“Yeah? You guys get along?”

 

“Yeah. But —I like to joke, make fun. His wife finds funny.”

 

“Oh, he’s married?”

 

“Recently.” Doyoung looks back to the door. Seven minutes. “-he calls too, sometime.”

 

“You guys must be really close, eh?”

 

“Sure.” He pauses, searching for something on Shawn’s face. “-you miss family?”

 

“Yeah. But sometimes my dad surprises me —shows up before my concerts to see me. It’s nice. Your parents ever visit?”

 

He shook his head, but there is no anger on his face. He’s learned to live with it.

 

“No. Too busy. They work.” Doyoung looks at Shawn again, knows what he’ll likely say. He’s been asked this question a number of times, has to find a new way to answer it to keep it ‘fun’ and light. “-complicated. Sending money —Korea system is different. Ask Johnny or Jaehyun —explain better.”

 

“No, it’s alright. It’s different. I get it.”

 

Doyoung doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want to be that kind of person —but he knows he doesn’t really get it. It was just a filler people used when they wanted out —saw enough and wanted to go back to their stupid, comfortable, familiar things. Like understanding other people was just some kind of vacation you could cancel whenever you felt like it. Shawn was just a person. Of course he would say things like that. He shouldn’t get mad.

 

He shouldn’t get mad.

 

“Wish I was you, Shawn Mendes.” Doyoung finds himself saying. “-know everything. ‘Get’ everything.”

 

“Hey. Hey, Doyoung, that’s not what I—

 

“-I have to go.” Distracts himself by fiddling with his already fixed collar. Brushes off at his pants, gets up to leave.

 

“Doyoung —please, I’m sorry —Seriously forget what I said —it was fricking stupid-

 

“-It’s okay, Shawn.” He’s halfway to the door, three quarters of his back turned to him. Raises his arms ironically. “-I _get_ it.”

 

Continues on his way, stops when he’s right under the door frame. Jerks his head in the direction of the clothes rack again. Grabs the studded leather jacket before leaving for the show.

 


	8. day four: 1:38 pm

“Get me a bottle water?”

 

Shawn looks up —he’s sat up on the couch now, a few crumpled papers rolling around his sock feet. Tried to test out some new lyrics —getting nowhere, most likely because he didn’t have his guitar. Just sort of started going a little insane, counting the paint bumps on the ceiling. He’d go outside, but he doesn’t want to get accidentally locked out, confronted by the wrong person, thinking he’s some crazed fan sneaking backstage. This was obviously a Korean event and outside of this room, he’d definitely look out of place.

 

He leans over the armrest, retrieves a freezing _Dasani_ , tosses it to him —blocked by Haechan who butts in front, snatching the bottle instead. But Shawn doesn’t miss a beat, curves one over his head, narrowly missing the ceiling lights, chuckles when Doyoung smirks, smacking the younger’s hand away, catching this one. Jaehyun comes, a moment later with Taeyong and Mark, laughing about something in Korean. He could hear the others chatting and playing around outside —thinks he’s not only hearing Korean, remembers they speak Chinese and Japanese too.

 

Shawn half-smiles. It’s a bit odd —feeling like you’re part of something and also not, at the same time. Inside, but outside. A shallow kind of safety. Maybe.

 

“You okay, Shawn?” He looks up at Jaehyun leaning his elbows over the top of the couch, smiling for the familiarity more than anything else.

 

“Yeah —it’s great, really, I’m great.” He scratches his scalp, focuses on something on his feet. “-hey, sorry —having to drag me along with you guys to this…”

 

“No, no, seriously, it’s no trouble. You’re a cool guy, Shawn. And I bet Doyoung—

 

“-Er, actually he and I had a little, um…” He looks away, still feeling bad about it.

 

“Really?” Jaehyun chuckles. “-oh, no, don’t take it personally, man. He’s like that around the people he likes, trust me. Plus, he can get like that before shows —just nerves, you know?”

 

“You think so? I don’t know —I feel like I really made him upset like I should apologi—

 

“-Woah —you made Doyoung mad?” He doesn’t even need to look, it’s Johnny. “-what’d you do, dude —take a selfie when he told you—

 

“-Johnny, stop. I think he’s not trying to be funny.”

 

“Oh. Wow. Shit. Well, don’t let it get you down, bruh. He’ll probably forget it in like a day or—

 

“- _Why_ do you guys keep saying that—?” Shawn jumps a little, himself, from how loud it was.  “-is it _normal_ for Doyoung to be mad or something? Like is it just something he— Look, I’m sorry, okay, but I’m just so freaking confused like—

 

“Hey, everything alright in there?” Another stagehand shouts from the hall —this one sounding older and bulkier than the one earlier, the kind familiar with breaking up trouble.

 

Johnny looks at Jaehyun, an unspoken agreement passing between them. They look around the room —Doyoung sits a bit apart from everyone else, at the edge of the far table, it’s barely noticeable but still apparent. He does smile and talk casually with anyone that passes by, but the distance is there. Mark, meanwhile is running around playing some kind of chasing game involving a soccer ball with Haechan and Yuta —who drags along a reluctant Winwin and inevitable Taeil. Taeyong is alone but far from lonely, busy marking up a paper with a bright pink highlighter at the other end of the room —last-minute changes to the schedule and choreography, most likely.

 

Johnny gets an idea.

 

“Mark! Yo —get over here!”

 

He turns —gets hit square in the face with the soccer ball, hair bouncing out, blinks, holding his hands out from the disorientation. Wobbly makes his way to Johnny while Haechan slowly dies from laughter in corner with Yuta and Taeil.

 

When he sees Shawn, he looks at both of them with innocent confusion. Jaehyun whispers something into Johnny’s ear, he nods.

 

He gets another idea.

 

“Doyoung! Hey, come on —Shawn wants to talk to you!”

 

He complies, albeit rather stiffly, heading over to them also. When he sees Mark, a jolt of electricity seems to pass between them and Mark’s innocent confusion suddenly turns a little less innocent, automatically retreating a few steps back 'cause — _homeboy looks just about ready to throw these hands_ -

 

“Y-Yo —hey, Taeyong already told me everything was all s-sorted out so I thought —h-hey, are you punishing me for s—

 

“What’s all sorted out?” Calls someone in Korean.

 

As if summoned by magic, Taeyong suddenly appears, arms crossed —expression softening when he sees Shawn — _Hey, how’s it going, man? Everything cool?_  But for Shawn, it’s too much to handle and he takes one look at everyone and dashes out the door —for more air.

 

Johnny shakes his head at Taeyong — _Everything’s fine, seriously_ — _I’m just making Mark sort the mess he basically started_ — _come on, it’ll be good for both of them._ Pushes a kinda scared and confused Mark and a (still rather) angry and confused Doyoung out the room to explain things to Shawn. Or to explain things between each other, the three of them. Whichever made more sense.

 

“Um, so...what’s going on, exactly…?”

 

Mark keeps his eyes on Shawn because he doesn’t think he can look Doyoung in the eye, not yet. Now that he was alone with the two of them, Doyoung might actually punch him. What exactly was Johnny thinking?

 

“Okay, so, uh, I think, um,” Shawn began, a little shakily as well. “-to keep this whole thing civil and uh, democratic, you know —I’ll explain my side of the story and then uh, Doyoung can, uh…”

 

Mark starts to translate, chokes on his gum, when Doyoung snaps:

 

“I _know_ what he’s saying, stupid.”

 

Gestures for him to continue.

 

“-U-uh, okay, so, um, Doyoung just sort of got mad out of nowhere when I said, uh, something about how —ugh, um, uh, you know what, the thing is not important, okay, I just wanna fix th—

 

“-Okay, Shawn, look —I can’t help you guys ‘fix’ this thing if I don’t know what it is —hey, all I know is I apparently accidentally started some drama concerning you, Doyoung and clogging the toi—

 

“-Which you should _totally_ be apologizing to him for, actually—

 

“-Hey, hey, Mark, man, it’s all cool, okay, no hard feelings, eh? It was all just jokes, right, haha—

 

“-Yeah, yeah, bro, totally,” Switches to panicked Korean. “-see —look Doyoung-hyung, look Shawn’s not even mad, so I think y-you should—

 

“-Hey, hey, okay, okay,” Shawn cuts in shakily, noticing Doyoung only getting more and more pissed. “-I, uh, I-I think we should focus on, the uh, issue at hand, and figure out why Doyoung g-got mad a-all of a sudden—

 

“-Bro — _I’m telling you_ , I’ve been trying to figure it out for the past 2 years —trust me, man, there’s no secret, okay —Look, we all love Doyoung but we’re all low-key terrified of him too, oka—

 

“-Mark, what the fuck are you telling Shawn—

 

“-D-Doyoung-hyung, I’m trying to help you guys, seriously, but look, I don’t think it’s possible ‘cause like—” He barely stumbles by in Korean, focusing on a point on Doyoung’s forehead, rather than the two balls of fire below. “-all Shawn’s saying is you got mad at him for no reason and I kinda agree with him, like—

 

“- _Lee Minhyung._ ”

 

Mark almost jumps out of his skin.

 

From a certain angle, and by squinting his eyes really hard and twisting his head at exactly 42 degrees, Kim Doyoung did unsettlingly resemble his great aunt Lee Soo-Ming (especially during BOSS era with the wire-rimmed glasses, turtleneck and all those earrings). That woman was the only person who ever called him by that name, in _that_ tone, and if there were any reason at all he’d be reluctant to return to Vancouver, that would be it. Doyoung just brought a flash flood of unwanted memories of back when he was under 13 and now Mark .exe had stopped working. Snow. Right. He missed the snow. Snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, snow…

 

“Okay, that’s it —I’m calling Johnny.” Doyoung’s matter-of-fact Korean jolts him out of it.

 

“Y-You know, I never really understood why you guys never dated.” Mark tries to change the subject. “-I mean, he’s like the one guy who isn’t really afraid of you and you seem to put up with his weirdness a lot better than Ten does…”

 

“-Oh, I think we tried once, actually.” Doyoung pauses mid-dial, temporarily switching to casual. “-some random night we tried and it didn’t really work, okay? And, like, maybe we tried again a number of times but it still didn’t work so we just figured we’d just —What the fri— Mark, why are you _laughing_ —

 

“S-sorry, hyung.” He snorted, face in his hands. He tries to start again, but is cut off multiple times by his own laughter until he finally managed. “-literally...hyung...you’re like...the _only_...person who can —” He snorts again. “-make starting a relation...ship…” He’s shaking and doubling over. “-sound like a couple...trying to get... _pregnant_ …”

 

“Mark Lee what the f—

 

For once though, he hears himself snort at what Mark was saying —it was true, he really did make it sound like that, and now that he ran it through his head over and over again, he started laughing harder until he and Mark are both doubled over, bawling their eyes out, sputtering nonsense.

 

Shawn though, is completely lost, as the whole episode happened all in Korean. He waits until the laughter dies down a little before coming in with a friendly:

 

“Hey, uh, guys —would you mind explaining what just happened, ‘cause um, I’m uh, kinda…”

 

So they explain it to him and Shawn gets it —really gets it this time. As they laugh all over again, he joins them, a little awkwardly and nervously, because sure it’s kinda funny, but really it’s not that funny, so maybe they were laughing about something beyond this thing —something he couldn’t reach right now, some sort of secret code woven in that only they knew. But then they seem to notice that Shawn doesn’t feel completely in on the joke they know, so Mark and Doyoung take turns telling him all the crazy things NCT did together — _Oh, remember that time when Johnny-_   _Yeah, man, and then Taeyong walked in and then_ — _Jaehyun was like_ — _No, no, Mark, that was Jungwoo_ — _Oh, right, right, so then he was like_ —

 

With the way they talk —zigzagging between English and Korean, trying to cover different situations —or every side of one at once, Shawn feels like he’s being told a hundred jokes without the punchlines —and then getting them all in the end in the wrong order, so at the heart of things, it was really just one huge mess, but at one point he finds himself laughing, really laughing, not knowing when or why, maybe less because he ‘gets’ it, but more so because he knows he doesn’t and that he’s okay with it, because Doyoung and Mark don’t seem to care about that, they just want him to be in on it, with them, together, laughing, laughing until he feels like his lungs might give out, because really, that’s what he really wanted anyway —to be _in_.

 

To the rest of the people in the hall, maybe they just looked like three idiots laughing at nothing. To them, though, it was something, something more.

 

Maybe it was the closest anybody could get to understanding.

 

**...**

 

**10:21 pm**

“You nervous?”

“Yeah, little.” Doyoung nods. Their last performance starts in ten minutes. “-run through choreography one more time, with me?”

“...okay.”

After the noon show, they’d driven straight to the dance practice studio, not getting food until a while later. Now that he was completely awake, Shawn thought it might be fun to learn a dance sequence or two, seeing that he was getting a rare chance to watch NCT127 practice behind the scenes. It was something he ought to do too —now that he was temporarily on ‘vacation’, he hadn’t been hitting the gym lately, like, at all, compared to his usual 2 hour split routine and the lack of exercise _was_ making him feel a bit sluggish. He thought some dancing would be a fun, relaxing way to ease back into his previously active lifestyle.

Cue in the _Titanic_ soundtrack for when everybody dies.

Not even 13 seconds into Cherry Bomb Shawn found himself passed out on the floor, sweating in places he didn’t even know produced water. When Taeyong had peered down at him, asking him if he was alright, Shawn barely had enough air to answer back that maybe, maybe, he was just a teeny bit out of shape. Just a teeny bit. A little. So small you needed a microscope. Yeah.

Anyhow, three and a half torturous hours later he finally learned the entire choreography —most of the time of which he used to continue lying spread-eagled on the gloriously polished, artificial lemon-scented, oak-panelled floor while Johnny fed him water through a straw. _There’s vitamins too. ‘Cause like, you never had breakfast and shit._

He never did have breakfast, or anything that could be counted as an actual, government-approved meal afterwards because Shawn discovered that while, yes, he really could feel each individual pack on his abs again, he had lost the ability to digest anything that wasn’t 100% H2O without having it come out the other side as proverbial cat food.

_Man, I could never be in NCT. They have to somehow sing while building metaphorical city infrastructure at mach-speed through dance. Johnny told me Winwin can do a cartwheel with no hands. Shit. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if he told me that Jaehyun can float and Taeyong can ride the waves of time._

All this impossibly difficult work was making Shawn believe more and more that Doyoung might not be a real person and that maybe NCT127 might not be real either —maybe all the stress from his career was causing him to make all of them up in his mind—

“Shawn! Hey —five minutes!” Nope. Nope, Doyoung was definitely real. So was the enduring soreness everywhere on his body.

“O-Okay, w-what part do you wanna practice—

“3:53—

_“Nonononono—_

He had practiced this segment of Cherry Bomb so many times he didn’t even want to think about it anymore —and somehow even after doing it that many times it still scared the shit out of him. But Doyoung looks at him with a serious, not-joking face and Shawn sighs — _okay, one last time won’t kill me right?_

_nananananana_

_I’m the biggest hit_

_I’m the biggest hit on the stage_

_nananananana_

_eoseo ppalli pihae right Cherry B_ —

“Shawn! Hey! Hey —you okay?”

He moans, on the floor, not moving a muscle.

“...I think I broke my ass.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay but that cherry bomb scene would be me af lmaooo


	9. day four: 11:52 pm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wiggles eyebrows fabulously* lmaooo
> 
> also school started so updates might take a bit longer lol :P

With the last performance of the night over, they all crammed into the rented taxi, all ten of them, exhausted, soaked but warm and joyful. They’ve made a few stops, had a few celebratory drinks (everyone born after 1997 got diet soda, obviously) —nothing too heavy, they’ve only had enough so their throats feel cozy, their vision softly misted.

 

Shawn is sandwiched between Doyoung at the window seat and Jaehyun who sits next to Mark with Haechan and Taeil on either knee. Yuta and Winwin are squeezed around the space by Jaehyun’s calves. Johnny and Taeyong, on the other hand, have all the leg room in the world —currently having a fantastic time showing this feature to the rest of them —trying to do the entire choreo of Cherry Bomb sitting down —of which Johnny, unfortunately, had to sacrifice much of his form because he needed both hands on the wheel at (almost) all times. They’re mostly ignored though, because everyone is beyond tired and just wanted to get back to the hotel and sleep.

 

Everyone, it seemed, except Doyoung.

 

Craning his neck over to chat animatedly to Jaehyun and the rest of the rear gang about something on his phone, (that seemed immensely fascinating to no one but him), Shawn wonders what the heck it could be. When Doyoung nudges a somewhat tepid Mark and a positively astral-travelling Jaehyun, all they do a moment later is clap apathetically, mumble a few _yeahs_ before going back to vegetating.

 

“Uh, hey, Mark, um, what’s going on?”

 

He turns to him, sighs, gestures to Doyoung with his chin.

 

“He's just being an annoying nerd again —did this back in Ukraine too, okay.” He laughs, looking out the other window at the starry city lights. “-Doyoung wants to know _everything_ , right, so like —he wikis the place, starts spouting random facts like a human _encyclopedia.”_

 

The guy crosses his arms, seems to have understood, definitely throwing something snarky back with that expression on his face and tilted chin. Mark rolls his eyes, tries to get some sleep. Jaehyun tries to be slightly more helpful and yanks Doyoung’s hand so his phone faces Shawn, clicking for the page to translate into English.

 

“Okay, so, it says here,” Jaehyun squints in the crappy indoor lighting. “-Urban Mobility Report ranked Los Angeles road traffic as most congested in the United States as of 2005…mean travel time for commuters shorter than for major cities like New York City, Philadelphia...major highways...Interstate 5 runs south through San Diego...Portland...to Seattle to the Canada-US border—

 

“-You get the idea.” Mark rolls his eyes again, laughing tiredly. “-only our _intellectually-refined_ Doyoung would find this kind of snoozefest interesting…”

 

“You’re just reading a boring section.” Doyoung scoffs in Korean, snatching his hand back from Jaehyun, continues looking out the window.

 

The car grows quiet after that. After a while of listening to the sounds of vehicles passing them by in the night, Doyoung nudges his knee against Shawn’s.

 

“Hey.” He said quietly —the rest of the row mostly asleep. “-you think I’m boring?”

 

“What?” Shawn frowns in disbelief. “-no. No, why would I think that?”

 

“Then what?”

 

“What? What do you mean?”

 

“What you think?” He pauses for a while before adding. “-about me?”

 

“About you? You mean, like what kind of person you are?”

 

“Yeah —like that.” He nods, still looking out the window.

 

“Gee, Doyoung…” Shawn scratches his head. “-I’ve only known you for a few days...I can’t really say anything about that, you know…It’s like —I don’t know. People are hard to know, you know?”

 

He _seems_ to know, what with Shawn throwing in all those _knows_ for good measure, but still looks unsatisfied. If it’s the language barrier again, Shawn would understand —it’s late and trying to get his point across may not be all that worth it.

 

“No, I mean, like—”

 

“Yeah?”

 

But Doyoung just cuts himself off, shaking his head. “-forget it. Never mind.”

 

They don’t say anything for a while. All that can be heard is the whirring of the car’s air conditioner and the slow rumble of traffic outside. Several minutes seem to pass.

 

Finally, Shawn sighs.

 

“I don’t know you that well, Doyoung...” He began again. “-but that...doesn’t mean that I, um, don’t _feel_ anything towards you —th-those things are _different_ , y-you know…”

 

The other turns to him, looking at him carefully, trying to formulate the right way to ask the question.

 

“You... _feel_...s-something...toward me…?”

 

“Y-Yeah.” Shawn’s face burns now, he can’t look him in the eye for longer than half a second. “-I, um, I do. A lot. Really, really a lot.”

 

“A lot?”

 

“U-uh huh.” But whenever he looks at him now, all he can focus on is Doyoung’s mouth, how close it is and how much he wanted to— He drops his gaze down, steadies his breathing, places a shaky hand on the Doyoung’s knee —cold, it was right where the rip was on his jeans. “-um, can y-you c-close your eyes…?”

 

But this time he doesn’t. He doesn’t have to. Doyoung takes one look at him and he knows —it’s there, the signal that he’d been hoping to find these past few days, flaring right in front of him, in the expression of his face, the particular glow in his eyes.

 

This time, _he’s_ the one who leans and goes _in_ for it.

 

**...**

 

**day five 1:27 am**

By the time Doyoung reaches the door of his suite, he can barely get the key card in —Shawn’s turned him around, back against the door, kissing him hard, grasping his shoulders through his jacket, in earnest, his pulse pounding in his throat. When he tries to mumble _door,_ Shawn doesn’t seem to hear him, doesn’t want anything to let him get even a little bit away from him, hands running down his arms, making him drop the card when their fingers touch —taking advantage of his lips parted further to kiss him open-mouthed. Doyoung just about melts when he feels his tongue against his, knees going soft as Shawn moves his mouth down his jaw, then his throat, at last fixating on his collarbone.

“Shawn, Shawn—” He breathes. “-door, door—

“-Yeah?” He manages in between kisses. “-nn —s-something  —you —want?”

“L-let me—” He’s cut off again —but God, he wasn’t complaining, hands tangled in Shawn’s hair, yanking him closer. “- _door_ —

As soon as his back hits the other side of it, Shawn slides the jacket off his shoulders, wants to feel the warmth of his skin through his thin shirt —one knee between Doyoung’s legs to keep him from moving. He’s still afraid he’ll leave. Afraid he’ll run. Disappear, fade like some fevered dream. Brings his lips to his ear.

“Hey, remember when you asked me to carry you?”

“Nn —yeah,” He gasps. “-tomorrow?”

“It’s one-thirty.” In between kisses. “-tomorrow’s right now, Doyoung.”

“ _Nn—_

“Come on, come on,” Shawn rides his hands up his legs until they’re gripping the backs of his thighs. “-hang onto me, one, two, three—

And then Doyoung does a little jump, hooking his legs around Shawn’s hips, ankles crossed, mouth never leaving his, as the other staggers backwards to the bed, grimacing when he crashed onto the mattress back first, Doyoung still in his lap, knees gripping his waist. Shawn breaks away for a while, wincing, trying to catch his breath.

“You okay?”

“I, uh, ha,” He pants, exhaling a laugh. “-I broke my ass earlier, remember?”

Doyoung laughs.

“Haha. Right.”

“Ugh, I landed on something hard…” Shawn groans, reaching in his back pocket. Finds a phone—Doyoung’s, must’ve gotten mixed up while they were making out in the car. “-hey, I think—

The other grabs the phone from him, tosses it —a soft thud as it landed on the thick carpeting. Reached a leg down, kicks it under the bed, for good measure. Turns back to Shawn, tip of his tongue at the corner of his lip.

“Continue, please…?”

Shawn exhales, blushing.

“Absolutely.” Closes his eyes, to steady his breathing again. “-just, just give me a second...”

“Okay.” Doyoung snorts.

They stay like that for a bit longer and when Shawn nods that he’s alright, Doyoung pushes a finger over his mouth, shushing him.

“You watch.” He instructs, grinning. “-I do everything.”

So Shawn just watches in awe as Doyoung takes off his shirt —hair swept a perfect mess, then tosses it at his face, pushing him back down when he tries to get up, already working his belt while Shawn struggles with his own shirt, flushing red as Doyoung laughs at it getting caught around his head, helping him get it over just far enough so it’s tangled at his wrists, one hand holding his wrists against the bed, kissing him until he had to break for air. Going back right after —sighing from his sweat —it’s euphoria.

“How many times’ve you dreamed about this?” Shawn asks after he finally caught his breath.

“Last month?” Doyoung kisses up his torso, nips at his throat. “- _jaen-jang_ —almost every night.”

 

**...**

 

**3:57 am**

They’re in the bathroom, Doyoung in the tub with the water warm around his shoulders and knees, Shawn at the sink, chuckling, half-heartedly scrubbing at their ruined undergarments. He wears a t-shirt and a clean pair of Doyoung’s boxers —kicking himself for not packing his own extras because Doyoung was basically a size smaller than him everywhere and while he wasn’t complaining about that a few minutes ago, now it was really starting to dig into his waist.

“They’re not that dirty. Seriously, I don’t think it needs soap.”

He rolls his eyes when Doyoung gives him a pointed look, sighs as he smears some on and continues scrubbing. When he’s done, he slung them over the rack with the face towels and grabs the foot stool to sit down by the tub, pulls Doyoung in by his shoulders, squeezing shampoo over his head.

“Here, let me do it.” Gets his hair into a rich, foamy lather, leans in to smell. “-God, your hair is so glorious.”

“Oh?” Doyoung cocks an eyebrow. “-come on —talk more.”

“Okay.” Shawn pauses from scrubbing. “-you know what else is glorious? This—” He grips his shoulders again. “-and this,” Moves down to his ribs. “-and this...” Hands just above his hip bones. “-and _th—_

Water splashes wildly as Doyoung kicks at him to get his hands away, laughing as Shawn gets all soaked again —including the underwear he’d just changed into. He’s a mess of frantic elbows and ankles as he gets almost half the water in the tub spilling over onto the floor, making Shawn almost slip off the stool. Shawn pants, lashes wet, water dripping off his chin, rolling his eyes at him in mock-exasperation.

“Great, now I’m all wet again…”

“Oh, _pssh_. Then, come in—!”

“I’m still in my clothes.”

Doyoung snorts.

“Take off again.”

“...”

“Hmm?”

Then he laughs as a surge of water crashes over his head, Shawn following right after.

 

 

 


	10. day five: 6:37 am

Doyoung blinks to the tune of _Treat You Better_ wheedling from under the bed. For a split second, he has a panicked vision of Shawn trapped beneath the floorboards, soon extinguished with the sound of the guy snoring right next to him. It’s all good. He inches himself to the edge of the bed, casting an arm down, blindly feeling for the object.

 

Knocks into a hard, smooth, buzzing thing. Picks it up, bringing it to his ear, yawning.

 

“Yeah…?”

 

 _“Hyung?”_ Doyoung squints _,_ confused. _Winwin…? “-Doyoung-hyung, are you alright?”_

 

“ _Nn_...yeah, I’m fine...it’s, nn, kinda early though…”

 

“ _O-oh, sorry about that, I was just, um, worried that, um —you know what, never mind —you’re fine, right?”_

 

“Yeah...I’m good, Sicheng...uh, _you_ okay, though…?” Doyoung hopes he doesn’t sound rude —Winwin was a sweet kid, really, he’s just sort of dazed and only half-awake.  

 

 _“Oh —I’m fine, I’m good, hyung.”_ Relieved to hear laughter from the other side. _“-thanks for asking.”_

 

“No worries…um, I’m gonna get a bit more sleep, now...” He mumbles, trying to push back another yawn. “-you get some rest too, okay?”

 

 _“Yup, uh huh, definitely.”_ Winwin replied. _“-see you at practice, hyung.”_

 

“Mmhm, see you.”

 

Doyoung ends the line and checks call history, eyes narrowing as he yawns again. Sicheng’s been calling him since almost 2 am —he had more than six missed calls. Did something happen? Doyoung had given him his number a while ago, asking him to call if he ever needed anything and the guy never did, until now. Maybe he should…

 

“Nn, Doyoung, you okay...?”

 

He turns to a sleepy Shawn, blinking, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.

 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

 

“Good.” He leans in, brushing an eyelash off his cheek. “-don’t worry so much…”

 

He laughs, barely an exhale. “-okay.”

 

They roll around awkwardly in the sheets for a while, laughing quietly, trying to kiss without knocking into teeth, mostly failing, and laughing some more. Doyoung finally settles comfortably along the space by Shawn’s neck and shoulder, falling asleep again.

 

**...**

 

**4:21 pm**

 

“Wait, Winwin was calling you all night last night—?”

 

Doyoung rolled his eyes, shrugging. They’re sprawled by the corner of the dance practice studio, taking a quick break. Johnny takes another swig from his water bottle —smirking when he sees him wince —the sound of him crushing the empty plastic afterwards. Mark’s in another world, checking out something on Jaehyun’s phone, sharing an earbud, leaning on his shoulder.

 

“Jeez, I don’t know...He seemed really embarrassed about it too...he wouldn’t really explain what the reason was...he just sorta…” Doyoung turns, glaring at the monkey-screeching coming from his far left.

 

The rest of them are on the other side of the room being weirdos —Yuta and Haechan doing some bizarre mating dance while Winwin helps Taeyong loosen his joints (in rather odd-looking positions). Taeil’s in the bathroom singing —you know, where acoustics are great. Maybe a little too great —they can still hear him from here.

 

“-Well, I mean, I don’t think it’s _that_ big of a deal…” Johnny decides, looking over also, to make sure everything was alright. Meanwhile, _Apado Gwenchana_ rings ironically through the walls, echoing like they were in some underwater church. “-I mean, Sicheng seems fine now, and nothing really happened last night, right?”

 

“Yeah, nothing happened…” Doyoung shook his head. “-you know what, maybe I’m worrying for nothing—” Then he stops, eyes widening, hit with a flashback. Waves for Johnny to come closer, whispering something in his ear.

 

It’s like he got sacked the gut. Fist over his mouth, face nearly purple, Johnny gets up, walking back and forth like a lost chicken, shaking his head, excitedly muttering:

 

“ _Nooooooo...Doyoung, you gotta be k— No wayyyyyy...Doyoung...oooooohhhhh, nononononononono…”_

 

Mark lifts his head at the odd noise, squints at Johnny.

 

“Dude, what the heck —you look like you just—

 

He plops back down, waving for Mark and Jaehyun to lean in. Johnny presses his mouth in a tight line, trembling.

 

“ _Doyoung. Butt-dialed. Winwin. While. He. And. Shawn. Were. Having. Se—_

 

The next second, Mark’s on the floor in fetal position, practically choking, while Jaehyun’s spread-eagled on the ground, laughter booming across the entire room, slapping the floor until his earthquake finally draws Taeyong into their disastrous half-circle.

 

“Okay, guys, what’s going on.” Looks over at Doyoung who has his face in his hands, the only one (unsurprisingly) who seems completely unamused.

 

Mark struggles to catch his breath, still shaking as he gets up, hands on Taeyong’s shoulders.

 

“Taeyong, Taeyong, hyung, hyung, hyung —you gotta hear this…” He pants, barely keeping himself together. “- _Doyoung butt-dialed Winwin while he and Shawn were having s—_

 

Johnny blows a fat raspberry and they erupt in violent laughter all over again.

 

Taeyong shakes his head, sighing, exchanging weary glances with Doyoung. Then drags Mark by the hem of a jean leg across the floor, muttering. “-come on, let’s work on that jumping —you nearly kicked Jungwoo in the head last BoB stage…”

 

When they get to the center of the room, Mark gradually collects himself, and Taeyong takes another look at the rest of them slowly losing it in the corner. _Damn it, I know he’s not a kid anymore but Doyoung had better have used protec—_

 

He shakes head, brushing it off. Shawn was a good kid —Canadian, to boot. He had nothing to worry about. They probably just kissed a few times and went to sleep.

 

Probably.

 

Sometime later after practice, Taeyong digs his backpack for spare condoms and debates with himself  exactly how he should give Doyoung (and probably the rest of the members too…) the talk.

 

 _Yup_ , he thought, palm smacking into fist.  _Time to hit ‘em with that good education._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk what this is at this point, it's super fun tho haha *cries*


	11. day five: 6:32 pm

“Hyung, what are you doing?”

 

Doyoung jumped, looking relieved when it was only Winwin.

 

They were seated in a nearby diner from the dance studio, having a few milkshakes before heading home early —the show they were scheduled for having been canceled —the heavy thunderstorm in the evening making the venue unsafe for both performers and the audience.

 

Doyoung was glad, honestly —he still remembered the DREAM Concert in Sangnam, where the stage floor had been laced with ice and water —at least one member had slipped and fallen during each performance. The cameramen were smart —just zooming out to take in the audience whenever it happened, but the fancams, though most of them shaky and blurry —caught everything.

 

Nobody had gotten seriously hurt, from what he can remember, but it was kind of upsetting when some netizens tried to turn it into some kind of joke —sure, it looked funny, but maybe that's because the laughter came from those safely sitting back, most likely at home with a roof over their heads —none of them expecting to perform again barely a day later. Doyoung thinks about Ten’s damaged knee and stops what he’s doing, frustrated at himself.

 

It always happened like this —his day would be going fine and then one little thing would start a spiral of angry thoughts which shot out as exasperated snaps at anyone who got into his space. He never said it out loud but he was really glad his members put up with it, just brushing it off as one of his quirks.

 

Doyoung sighed.  _Guess nothing's changed much since high school._

 

Then he realized Sicheng had asked him a question and he’d just gone off getting mad at random shit. Feels guilty, immediately.

 

“Sorry, I was just think about something.” He shook his head. “-anyways, I’m sorry about that...uh, accidental call... you called a bunch of times after —did you get any sleep at all last night?”

 

The other laughed, shrugging.

 

“-It’s okay, hyung, really —I actually slept pretty well —you know, most of the calls were one right after the other, so it wasn’t that bad. Plus, I texted Yuta about the whole thing and he sort of guessed what was going on…”

 

“From all that, uh, _anime_ …you guys watch together...” Relieved when Sicheng just snorts and nods back.

 

“Yeah, it can be pretty “educational” at times…” Then he pauses, slurps some milkshake and suggests, kinda shyly. “-hey, maybe we can watch some together —o-only if you’re want to —what kind of genre do you like?”

 

Doyoung paused to think.

 

“Horror? Maybe psychological? None of that romance stuff.” He had more than enough of that, currently, in real life.

 

“Oh, those are good ones, hyung. Okay, we gotta watch Death Note —it’s classic, then, Mirai Nikki —also classic, then Psycho-Pass —totally underrated, also Parasyte —it’s pretty new but really good, and, lemme think, what else, what else…”

 

Doyoung smiled. He never got tired of the look of someone talking about something they were passionate about —the way their eyes lit up, their face flushed when they tried to translate as much of it as they could into words, sometimes getting out of breath, nervous of what the other thought of their passion.

 

The vulnerability of it, there was something very special about that.

 

“Hey, it’s okay —maybe we can ask Yuta for some recommendations too.”

 

Sicheng waved it off, laughing.

 

“No, no —he mostly watches the lovey-dovey stuff —he tends to fall asleep whenever it’s my pick —like that one time when a character got beheaded and impaled like six times and blood was spewing everywhere and he was just like ‘Nn, I’m just gonna sleep now Sichengie…’ —yeah, he falls asleep to _that_ kind of stuff…”

 

Doyoung joins in, laughing, shaking his head. He had no idea.

 

“Seriously, though? You would wanna watch anime with me?”

 

The other nodded, much to Doyoung’s surprise.

 

“You know, I thought you wouldn’t…”

 

The other gives him a knowing look. 

 

“You think that I think you’re boring, right, hyung?”

 

He looked to the side, a bit embarrassed.

 

“Doyoung-hyung.” Sicheng sighed. “-I’ve never thought that, ever, seriously.” He looked down at his drink, blushing a little. “-you know why I never called you?”

 

“No...why...?”

 

He blushes even more, now it was getting to his ears. 

 

“Because I thought you only wanted me to call you about Korean stuff and Yuta was already helping me with that —and whenever I wanted to call you, it was for us to maybe hang out, like for fun, but I was scared you'd say you’re busy or...didn’t _want_ to…”

 

Doyoung blinked.

 

“Are you serious?” 

 

“Yeah. I thought you didn’t think _I_ was fun —that’s why you told me to call you only if I needed anything. So I thought…”

 

Both of them were quiet for a while, not quite sure how to continue the conversation after.

 

Then Sicheng cleared his throat, gesturing to the paper in front of the other.

 

“What’s that, hyung?”

 

“Oh, this? It’s nothing, really —I just thought maybe since it’s gonna rain a lot tonight maybe some of us could play an indoor game —I’m making Whiplash Bingo —basically each square has a line of the song and we’ll have it on loop while we have, I dunno know, the next door neighbor’s cat pause the song at random parts —uh, I still don’t have it all figured out…”

 

The other looks at him, wanting to say something.

 

“What? Is it...too boring…?”

 

“Sorta.” Then his eyes lit up. “-I think I have a better idea.”

 

He goes over and whispers something into Doyoung’s ear, as the other nods, impressed.

 

_Dang, this kid was smart too. Mark Lee should take notes._

 

**...**

**8:37 pm**

Doyoung cranes his neck at the sight before him and thinks,  _Yeah, maybe this was a big mistake._

Looking like something out of a horror movie —all of NCT127 plus Shawn, were in the middle of playing _Whiplash Twister_ —everyone tangled into someone else in some manner —Johnny’s torso trapped between Haechan’s left leg and Taeil’s right bicep, as Doyoung’s own calves are balanced, one resting over Jaehyun’s bum, the other squeezed along Taeyong’s jaw and Winwin’s shoulder, as Yuta’s right thigh was squashed under Shawn’s left elbow, whose arms are looped around the back of Mark’s knees, —whose unfortunately, at the bottom of the entire maze of limbs —and who’d probably suffer the most after this Human Brooklyn Bridge (inevitably) collapsed.

The game was simple, really. Only one person would be on the Twister mat in the beginning and whoever spun the spinner (filled with lines from the song) would go join them until eventually everyone was on the mat. Then whoever was closest to the spinner at the time would keep spinning. They just played the song on loop until Spotify played an ad and then they settled on a pre-made playlist.

Oh, yeah —and from Johnny’s recommendation since the song was called _Whiplash_ , everyone took turns in the beginning spraying various parts of the mat with whipped cream. Fun.

_God, what a mess._

“You know…” Someone managed. “-I never really appreciated oxygen that much until now...holy _frick_ …”

“Oh, man, I feel you.” Someone else laughed, barely breathing. “-shit, I think Mark just farted. Again.”

“Goddammit, Johnny, that _wasn’t_ me —that was totally _Jaehyun_ —

“-And how do you know it was _me_ , huh, Mark —where’s the proof—

“‘Cause your farts always smell like sour milk—

“ _Oh_ — _Too soon_ …”

“Mark, last time we were at Six Flags —you farted at the top of Kingda Ka and the boy behind us almost  _fell out of the car—_

“- _Yooo,_ Hyuck threw up once when we went down the Slip N’ Fly in Mexico — _they closed down the riiiide_ —

“-Hey! English headache! Some of us Korean too, you know!”

“-Donghyuck, they’re just talking about you throwing up on that r—

“- _Hey, hey_ —I think all you forget when Johnny go to Disneyland, we go down Crazy Train and he _think_ he go fart but all sudden  _explosion diarrh_ —

“- _Yo, Haechan, what the fuck man_ —

“-Fly like  _Nesquik cereal in the sky—_

__

“- _Hey_ —but remember that time when _Taeyong_ had—

But they never found out what Taeyong ‘had’ or did for that matter, because at that moment, someone (Mark still swears it was Jaehyun) actually farted, like _really_ farted and the oxygen level dropped to the point where Mark couldn’t hold up his arms anymore and the whole gang crashed into a chaotic disarray — _S_ _acked in the throat by a knee_ — _Man, who farted in my mouth_ — _Get your elbow the hell outta my ass_ — _Your dick just went through my fist_ — _Fuck --it’s like I’m inside the Human Centipede_ — _Ohhh --I think I’m giving birth to Mark’s foot_ — _Bitch, my foot’s giving birth to your Mom_ —

After another lifetime of screaming (and Shawn discovering that no, apparently it wasn’t Taeyong who could bend the waves of time, but actually Mark’s _foot_ ), they all managed to calm down, breathing heavily —regretting it immediately because the room was so hot the gas had never properly dissipated. Shawn chuckles and swiped at the whipped cream all over the front of his jeans, dabbing a tiny dollop on the tip of Doyoung’s nose.

The room falls silent. Then Doyoung snorts and everyone started smearing whipped cream over each other —then Haechan jacked whole cans and sprayed all the foreign swaggers into some Animorph stage of the _Michelin Man._

It was revenge. Yeah, so they closed the ride down, but at least they didn’t get barred from ever going to the park again (Ahem, Johnny).

**...**

**2:28 am**

They’re all huddled around the glowing rectangle of Yuta’s laptop —which he brought over to Johnny’s room where everyone took turns showering two, sometimes three at a time, yelling when someone (Jaehyun swears it was Mark) used up all the shampoo and conditioner — _Bro those bottles were smaller than your dick_ — _Oh, you bet your ass they were_ — _Woah,_ _Jaehyun, you kiss your Mom with that mouth_ — _Ayo, but last night the same mouth was on Taey_ — _The frick, Hyuck, you seriously tryna clog the toilet with wh_ —

After they made the bathroom messier than the Twister mat in Mark’s room, they played a round of rock, paper, scissors and Yuta’s team lost, so instead of watching _Yuri on Ice!_ they ended up marathoning _Mirai Nikki: Future Diary,_ and Yuta put up with it because Winwin clapped his hands and said “Let’s winwin!” right before they started. Taeil was on Yuta’s team and didn’t even think he lost.

So there they were, almost all of them asleep except for Winwin, Doyoung, Shawn and one quarter of Johnny’s face. They were on the last episode (Yuta had downloaded the whole series onto his USB with English, Korean and Mandarin subtitles to prove his love to Sicheng) when the scene changed and Doyoung blinked, pausing the video.

“Hey —didn’t that girl die earlier? How’d she come back?”

Sicheng gives him a patient smile.

“Yeah, she did. That’s not her.”

“It’s another version of her.” Johnny’s mouth moved, the rest of his face didn’t. Both his eyes were closed now.

“Wait... _what…?”_

“I don’t wanna spoil it.” Sicheng shook his head. “-keep watching.”

So they do and Doyoung found out that yes, he’d been right, Mirene did die, but Sicheng had been right, too, and that the one he saw now, wasn’t her — _Spoiler alert!_ he could hear Haechan murmuring in English behind him from the bed (Dang, he thought the kid was asleep…) —it was another version of her, in a different universe. Apparently there were multiple universes existing at the same time, where everything happened slightly differently.

In some universes, you were already dead. In others, you weren’t even born yet. In another universe, he and Shawn had never even met. In another universe, maybe they never would.

He turns to Shawn, and the other looks back, smiling. He wipes off a smidge of whipped cream on Doyoung’s chin he’d missed in the shower, eats it —making him laugh when he realized it was dried soap.

When the credits roll, Sicheng gently closed the laptop and waves as Shawn starts to piggyback Doyoung towards their own room.

As Doyoung vaguely feels them moving through the dim hallways, nearing home, whichever one it was this time, he feels satisfied with his universe for once. Right now was good. Maybe in some other universe, Shawn was thinking the same thing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, bro, i was an ex-weeaboo lmaooo


	12. day six: 6:59 am

When Shawn woke up this morning, Doyoung was not there.

 

He remembers carrying him home, still remembers the weight of him over his back, so he doesn’t know why he’s gone. It’s not a dream. This is real. He feels the sheets along the empty spot, almost completely having lost their warmth. The dip on the pillow next to his has almost disappeared too.

 

He doesn’t get up for a while.

 

Listens for sounds from other places. The bathroom is empty, the whirring is just from the vents. There’s shuffling in the hall, but it’s the cleaners. The curtains billow, but it’s just the wind.

 

It really was a beautiful morning. He felt sick in his chest.

 

It gets worse when he doesn’t know where to start looking for him. Realizes seven days is enough to fall in love, not enough to know someone. Was there ever enough?

 

Sometimes the days just sort of…

 

_How do you, how do you just walk away?_

 

...blend together. I get it, I know.

 

He knows he kept saying those things without really understanding them. He can’t help it. It was what everyone did. The days just went by and they just spoke the first thing on their minds, because it didn’t matter if it didn’t mean anything.

 

He doesn’t call Johnny. Doesn’t call Jaehyun. Doesn’t want the easy way out. For all he knows, they don’t know where he is either.

 

But he also doesn’t want to wait until Doyoung comes back. He doesn’t know when he will and there was something else. He wouldn’t be able to wait after a point.

 

Shawn was leaving tomorrow, today.

 

He surprises himself with how calmly he moves forward. He goes to the window —knows it’s overly hopeful, but looks anyway, feels a tightening in his chest when he saw someone he thought was Doyoung crossing the street. But it wasn’t him. It was just another person.

 

He goes through the hallways on every floor. Patiently takes the elevator to each one. Knows the stairs would be faster, but it’s early and his legs probably wouldn’t be able to make it far enough. Laughs. He would really have to get back in shape when he returned to Canada.

 

At some point, he finds himself in the stairwell of the top floor, fiddling with the faulty lock over the rooftop door. Climbs up the ladder. He’s stopped hoping at this point, he just wants to go out for some fresh air. Away from all the comfortable, familiar, shallow things.

 

He knows Doyoung could be outside, somewhere down the street. Maybe in a diner. A convenience store. Maybe even a nondescript place you couldn’t find on the map. By some tree, in some corner, somewhere.

 

When the cold morning air hits his face, Shawn almost thinks he’s in Canada again. Some things weren’t so different. He wonders if Doyoung had ever forgotten he was in LA —mistaken some part of this place for South Korea in the past few days. Sometimes he forgot where he was. Sometimes it all felt the same.

 

He looks at the early pink sky, at the dark, teal rooftops of all the buildings around them. Them. He’d started thinking in that form again. Maybe it was the trick of the light. Maybe the cold air made the sunlight bend into a mirage where he saw another version of himself sitting at the roof’s edge.

 

There. Some other version of him who had straight, black hair, always wore shirts a size too big, who had a voice that was—

 

He turns.

 

The light just catches the edges of his hair. Face still in shadow, as is the rest of his body —just a silhouette. As if he’s an illusion, still not real yet.

 

“Don’t worry.” Doyoung laughs. “-not jumping. Not crazy.”

 

He waits for Shawn to join him. Doesn’t immediately meet his eyes when he does.

 

It feels like time holds on when they look out into the city together. But it means nothing then, because they don’t know what to say. They don’t know for a while.

 

“I know you leave soon.” He sounds more fluent than he’s ever been. “-know you have to go.”

 

“I wish I could stay longer.”

 

“Doesn’t matter.” Exhales a short, kind laugh when Shawn looks at him. “-I leave soon too.”

 

“Oh. Right. You have to go back too.” There he goes again. Words that didn’t mean anything.

 

“Yeah.” This was neither of their homes. Even though it had been, for a week.

 

“Did you like it here?”

 

“Yeah, maybe. Maybe home is better.”

 

“You have a lot of homes, though, right? ‘Cause you’re always moving around.” Gestures with his finger, chuckling.

 

Doyoung laughs. “-right.”

 

“Dang.” Shawn shivers, drawing his arms closer. “-sure is chilly up here.”

 

The other snorts, lightly this time, bringing his long-sleeved arms around Shawn’s shoulders. Covers his cold frame to a point, a somewhat lopsided triangle. Shawn leans in, presses his face into Doyoung’s slightly warmer neck.

 

“Sorry.” He feels the thrum of it along his throat. “-didn’t bring spares. Best I can do.”

 

“It’s okay. It’s good enough.”

 

“No, it’s not.” There’s something else in his voice.

 

Shawn smiles faintly, looking down.

 

“No.”

 

**...**

 

**3:02 pm**

Haechan wakes up to his entire room —and himself, wrapped up in tinfoil. He slowly gets up, wrinkling his nose from the sound of aluminum being crumpled and crinkled around him. Still rather disoriented, he shakes his head, bits of tinsel drifting down like confetti.

He sees a trembling portion of the curtain and crept towards it —yanking it back to reveal a ridiculously giddy Mark, curled into a ball, laughing his ass off.

_“Who’s the kimbap now, Hyuck_ — _?”_  He barely managed before Haechan tackled him to the floor again, wrestling around, until both of them were cringing from the screeching and rattling of the foil and worked together to tear off the comically mummified Hyuck.

Haechan looked around at the Tinsel Wonderland, half-impressed.

“Not bad, Mark.” He nodded. “-looks just like your face without makeup.”

He gets tackled to the ground again.

**...**

 

**11:16 pm**

Mark and Shawn sit alongside each other in the recording studio, looking over what they’d accomplished these past few days. They laughed. It wasn’t much. They’d never even completed the chorus.

“If you’re really serious about this collab, we gotta keep in touch. Maybe we can Skype you or something. You’ve got Skype, right?”

“Yeah, I do. Don’t worry —I’m in no rush. I know you guys have a lot of work too.”

He’s seen that, he really has, this past week.

“Yeah, we’ve really got our work cut out for us,” Mark laughs. “-feels like we’re always busy —even when we’re sleeping. Actually we had this whole mock-documentary thing where we’re all connected through our dreams, haha. Sounds a bit much, I know.”

“No, man, it’s cool. It’s pretty deep, actually.”

“It’s been done before. It has to have been, at some point.”

“Hasn’t everything though?”

“Yeah.” Mark laughs again. “-I guess that’s true.”

They’re quiet after that. Shawn stares at the paper with scarcely jotted words. Mark looks at the pattern of his shoelaces. He draws his feet under the chair, clears his throat. Turns to Shawn, with an odd, familiar look in his eye.

“How is it back there?” He looks at the light glancing off the knobs on the control board. “-back in Canada?”

“Oh. It’s, uh, it’s really nice there. Not so crowded like here. There’s a lot of space. Lots of trees.” Then Shawn remembers what Jaehyun told him, first time he’d called. “-I don’t think it’s snowing quite yet, though.”

“No.” Mark grins, same expression in his eyes still. It’s the second last week of August. “-I guess not.”

“Is that the only thing you miss about it? The snow?” Looks away when he realizes how stupid that was. Of course it’s not the only thing.

“That and other things. There’s people I wish I could see more often. Face-to-face, not just from a screen.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“You know,” Mark said quietly. “-apparently if you don’t see them for long enough, you forget your parents' faces. You won’t recognize them anymore.”

“I’ve heard.”

“Isn’t that scary?”

“Yeah. It is.”

“I always have a fear like that. Not just for my parents, but, like, a fear that maybe one day I’ll forget everything that ever meant anything, you know.”

“Really?” But it’s not really a question. He just wants him to say more.

“Yeah. You know, everything changes after that. But just for you —not for the rest of the world. That stuff keeps on going and making sense, but then you’re just there, like…”

“I know what you mean.”

“Like it wouldn’t matter anymore.”

“It’s...it’s like —dying for the first time.” Shawn recalls from some book in high school. “-and then when you die for real, that’s, like, the second time.”

“Yeah.” Then he snorts. “-jeez, that’s so fucking morbid. We sound like the sad, angry kids in those American indie movies.”

“It’s okay.” He laughs too. “-maybe all kids are sad and angry at some point.”

“The hell? Is this group therapy or some shit?” Mark smirks, shaking his head. “-we need to, like, chill. Think about something completely different.”

“Like Johnny getting expl—” Shawn barely collects himself. “-down the Crazy Train...”

“Yeah.” Mark joins him, chuckling. “-that kind of shit.” Then without warning, he shouts. _“-We gotta dream, man!”_  Really breaks down into laughter this time. It doesn’t matter —there’s no one else in the building. Shawn had a spare key he’d never tossed, they’d gone in through the side door.

“Yeah. We gotta dream, man.” Shawn repeats, laughing. Then shouts too. “- _we gotta dream, man!”_

_“I gotta dream too!”_ An angry voice boomed from the ceiling. “- _that you damn kids’ll shut up and go home so I can lock up and get home too!”_

Shawn and Mark fell silent. Then they looked each other, snorted, still laughing as they raced down the hall, getting the hell outta there.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this note will be kinda long, so feel free to skip it if you aren't interested, haha. This is about an aspect of the story I want to discuss that's been bugging me —Doyoung's English, or my interpretation of it. 
> 
> So on the surface of the story progression, it feels incredibly unrealistic for his English to have improved in the course of a week from needing Shawn to 'sign language' what he's saying, to him being able to understand pretty much everything he's saying and being able to correctly respond back with only minor errors. So here's my pov: I think Doyoung's English (in real life) may actually be a lot better than he makes it appear (he basically doesn't talk at all during any English interviews) and that he struggles with the issue that he has a very strong accent and doesn't want to draw attention to it --I have Chinese friends with the same issue --they're embarrassed to speak English in public because they don't want to be made fun of for it.
> 
> Another thing is that, his comprehension is likely far better than his range of vocabulary (a first-language acquisition thing that may hold true for second language learning too, take LIN101 if you wanna know more haha), so it makes sense that he can understand Shawn, but doesn't always answer back with the correct grammar.
> 
> Here's a more complicated issue. One of reasons why second-language learners often use 'incorrect grammar' when they first learn the new language is bc they substitute the grammar of their first language into what they want to say and this can cause disparities (just take a look at direct translations from French-English, you'll see what I mean). Also, Korean has a different word structure than English --it's agglutinative (I believe Arabic is as well) and that means that you can add affixes to words to change the meaning, but also emotions conveyed in the sentence --English is analytic and its affixes don't alter emotional meaning. Another issue is the Korean sentence structure is SOV (subject-object-verb) while English is SVO. I'm writing this story just for fun but if I were to handle the language barrier more seriously, these are the kinds of issues I would need to keep in mind, when structuring Doyoung's English speaking.
> 
> I'm not sure exactly how NCT studies English, but from what I gather from interviews by hearing non-native speakers (e.g. Haechan) it's likely they use a similar system as Chinese speakers do where they focus a lot on grammar, but not really getting a full understanding on the 'rhythm' of English --the tiny errors made are very similar to the typical ones made by Chinese-English learners, but that's an issue of needing to surround yourself more completely with the language by living in an largely English-speaking country. That being said, they are still very talented individuals for learning so many languages (English, Mandarin, Japanese, Korean, Thai), in such a short time (I only speak English, basic Mandarin and some French and that's taken several years of practice).
> 
> So over the course of this story, I am assuming that Doyoung's English comprehension is actually very good and his basic vocabulary is steadily improving (from being around English speakers in NCT, listening to English songs (ahem, Shawn Mendes lmao), travelling to the US etc.) and the reason why his English suffers a lot in the start is simply bc he feels flustered talking to someone he admires. Interestingly though, as the story moves on, he seems to make more frequent grammar mistakes, but he also talks more —he's becoming more comfortable around Shawn and accepts making these mistakes as he realizes Shawn doesn't mind. My interpretation may be completely wrong, of course, but I needed to structure the story this way in order for it to flow properly (and keep it from hindering the humor/emotions expressed). 
> 
> Thanks for reading (if you did) woooo that was long haha *laughs nervously*


	13. day seven: 2:32 pm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update: edited the endnote bc it was too extra even for me lmaooo
> 
> also the edit kinda mixed up the formatting when I tried to download it as a PDF so I’m figuring that out rn lol

Doyoung's not quite sure how he ended up here, but there he was, in the bathroom of the dance practice studio early —with Jaehyun freaking out in the fourth stall down the left.

 

“I don't get what you're so worried about Jae, I mean he literally _said_ y—

 

“- _That's_ what I'm freaking out about, Doyoung, I didn't _expect_ him t—

 

The other sighed, arms crossed, staring at Jaehyun’s converse through the mirror. Was he joking or was he actually this dumb? Doyoung couldn’t think of one person in the world who'd reject Jaehyun if he asked them out.

 

_I couldn’t even approach him in high school_ — _he was too good-looking._

 

Doyoung laughed —something Seventeen’s Dokyeom had told him, which unsurprisingly ended up on multiple Korean idol news sites a few months later. But he had seen the photos. Jae really had been a looker back then too.

 

So he thinks it’s a bit ridiculous that the guy’s locked himself in the stall for the past half-hour, practically scared shitless for his first date with Taeyong —the love of his life, no less. This morning, he’d even called Doyoung for advice —as if _he_ knew anything about that kinda shit. _But you’re going out with Shawn, aren’t you?_ _—_ _I mean, I don’t know if you can call it that… But he likes you, right? And you like him and you guys do all that stuff that couples do, don't you?_ _—_ _Well, I mean, I guess… So then you guys are going out. So at least help me out a little, hyung?_

 

Doyoung had given him the one piece of advice he knew — _Don’t take him to Chipotle_ and Jaehyun had laughed, shaking his head — _Yeah, that I know_ — _I actually had a bit of a ‘toilet’ incident myself…_ The other had looked at him in surprise as Jae continued, blushing. _Yeah, it was really ‘crappy’ if you know what I mean…_

 

So the Crown Prince of NCT made mistakes too. He shook his head. He shouldn’t be so surprised. At the end of the day, they were all just people. People just trying to get by.

 

But today, he knows Jaehyun wants more than just to get by. He really wants to make Taeyong fall hard — _if he hadn’t already..._ Doyoung thought skeptically, but he and Johnny ( _and Mark too_ , he thinks begrudgingly) had really bent over backwards for _him_ over the past few days in order for things to turn out the way they did, so it’s the least he can do to make sure Jaehyun’s first date doesn’t completely go to shit.

 

But first…

 

“Jae, you need to get out of the damn stall —I can’t talk to you like this —I’m not Johnny.”

 

“-H-Hold on, I’m fixing my hair…”

 

“God —you are just…” Doyoung rolls his eyes. “-are you _actually_ unaware of how hot you are? Do you actually not wake up in morning and look in the mirror and think — _Oh, goddamn_ — _who the fuck is that sexy_ —

 

The stall door slams open and Jaehyun sighs, face in his hands. His hair is all messed up, but it’s in that (Doyoung rolls his eyes again) —sexy, just-rolled-out-of-bed kind of way. Taeyong sure was lucky —getting to wake up to that every morning. Doyoung shook his head —he’d be lying if he denied having any sort of feelings towards Jaehyun at some point in the past. The guy had charm. Somehow, the fact that he was unaware of it only made it more irresistible.

 

“You look fine, I don’t think you need to — _woah, shit._ ” Doyoung grasped his nose, gagging. Reels away from him, fanning his hand furiously.

 

“Wh-What is it? Is it my pits? A-Am I _sweating_ _already_ —B-but it shouldn’t be a problem —I swear I put on, like, six layers of deodorant under e—

 

“-Jaehyun it’s _not_ your pits—

 

“-Oh, _shit_  —it’s the _fart from yesterday_ —I swear I tell Mark to shut up about it, but,” Jaehyun cranes his head down, yanks his shirt neck up, sniffing anxiously, then bends down and actually starts smelling his sweats. “-m-maybe he’s not joking —maybe my farts actually _do_ smell like sour milk —I mean, I drink _so much_ milk all the time…”

 

“Jaehyun…”

 

He looks up, genuinely worried.

 

“Don’t lie to me, Doyoung — _do my farts smell like sour milk—_

 

“- _Jesus Christ_ —how would _I_ know—?!” He threw his hands in the air, incredulous. “-do I _look_ like I spend my free-time planting my face in other people’s asses to _correlate_ their intestinal gas t— Go ask Mark — _he_ seems to know what _everyone’s Febooty breezes_  smell like, apparently—

 

“Then _what_ is it—?”

 

Doyoung sighed, gesturing to his entire body.

 

“What kind of fucking cologne are you _wearing_ …?”

 

“-Um, u-uh, um, I, um…” Jaehyun looks extremely embarrassed now. “-well, I, I mean, a-actually, I…”

 

“Hand it over.” The other stretched out his hand, sighing, shaking his head. “-lemme see what’s inside your gym bag…” He’d been oddly possessive of it the entire morning while they were getting here, not letting go of it even when they were in the car. Doyoung had been imagining all kinds of things —dead bodies, blood money, illegal weapons...etc.

 

“-Doyoung—

 

“-Give it to me, dumbass.”

 

“O-okay…”

 

He goes back behind the stall, returns with the bag, reluctantly handing it over. Doyoung grimaces at the sudden weight —eyes widening in horror at the mountain of coloured bottles of various shapes and sizes crammed inside, completely obstructing the folded clothes underneath. Jaehyun coughed, hand rubbing his wrist, kind of ashamed.

 

“So…” He mumbled. “-um, last night, I _might’ve_ gotten up at 4 am and went to the 24-hr drugstore across the street and bought every bottle that was on sale…”

 

“And?”

 

“...and it might have been around...um...52 bottles…? Um, uh, for, roughly around—

 

“-Dammit, Jae, I don’t even _wanna_ know how much it cost —look, you smell like a —ugh, _fuck_ …” He winces, masking his face. “-God, I don’t even wanna go _near_ you…”

 

“I-Is it really that bad…?”

 

“You want me to be honest with you?” He looked at him, then continued. “-okay, back in high school, I used to live in an apartment, right? So every day after school, I’d have to take the elevator —and there was this chubby old man who always took it at the same time who lived one floor below me. He was super polite —honestly, there was nothing wrong with him, but like whenever he came on, I’d be scared shitless.”

 

“And, um, why was that...?”

 

“Because of the _smell_. It was freaky, okay?” Doyoung shuddered, handing back the bag. “-you know, what it smelled like? Like the extract of crushed Barbie doll parts —like the really cheap, no-name brand ones where they’re made out of transparent, blown-up hollow plastic that’s spray-painted with skin colour and shit.”

 

“Okay…?” Jaehyun shrugged. “-th-that’s oddly...specific…?”

 

“You don’t get it, do you?” He rolled his eyes. “-the only reason I know what that smells like is because my baby cousins would play with those dolls whenever I went over for dinner at my relatives’ house — _so_ I had this horrifying vision that the old man _kidnapped little kids and—_

 

“-Okay, so apparently I smell like a fat, old man who makes perfume out of the hair of toddler toys…”

 

“You smell like some freaky shit, Jaehyun, that’s what you smell like.” He sighed. Then he paused. “-but you really shouldn’t smell _that_ bad —lemme see that bag again, come on.”

 

He dug through it again and picked out an odd-looking bottle, sighs heavily when he saw the label. Lifts it to Jaehyun’s face with exasperation.

 

“This isn’t even...” Doyoung scoffed. “-what — _Johnson Johnson’s baby oil_ —Jaehyun, what the _sh_ —

 

“- _it was_ _4 am in the morning…_ ” He moaned at the ceiling. “-you can’t expect me to have read _every_ label—

 

“Okay, Jaehyun, I’m checking what other shit you bought because —” Then Doyoung sputtered. “- _Sally Hansen’s nail polish remover_ —fuck, Jaehyun, are you  _high_ —

 

“- _4 am in the morning, Doyoung_ —

 

“-What if you bought a tiny-ass bottle of _DDT_ , huh? Or _paint thinner_ —or, _I don't know_ , some kind of _corrosive_ shit —Jae, do you wanna date Taeyong or his _corpse_ —

 

“-Shut up, shut up, Doyoung, please —you’re _freaking_ me out…”

 

He looks at the other, who’s sank to his knees and looks like he’s having a meltdown. Normally so composed, Doyoung can barely recognize him right now. He zipped up the bag, slung it over his shoulder, sighing as he dragged the guy back to standing with the back of his shirt, holding his breath the whole time.

 

“Come on —I’ll drive you back.” He gestured with his chin. “-Shawn’s out with Mark at a rare _Tim Horton’s_ they sighted, bonding over Canadian shit, most likely. You can use my shower —gimme your keycard and I’ll get you a clean set of clothes. Taeyong’s over at the recording studio with Johnny and some others.”

 

“Okay...” He nodded, still looking at the floor, breathing a bit thickly. “-thanks, hyung, seriously.”

 

“It’s nothing.” Doyoung turned to him. “-and Jae?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

He lets an exasperated chuckle.

 

“If you _ever_ go on a 4 am shopping spree again — _please_ take me with you. You need someone to make sure you don’t end up _killing_ anybody with those purchases...”

 

Jaehyun laughs, breathing a bit easier now.

 

“Sure thing.”

 

**...**

 

**4:10 pm**

“We gotta get rid of the evidence.”

Doyoung turned to Jaehyun, who’d just come out of the shower, hair damp, towel over his waist.

“Already did.” He shrugged. “-set the whole fucking bag on fire.”

“ _What_ —?”

The other burst out laughing.

“I’m just kidding. I tossed your clothes in the laundromat, gift-wrapped some of the bottles. Put them in a pretty basket with a card in it. Half the shit you bought were cleaning products, Jae. Taeyong’ll love it.”

“Oh.” Jaehyun nodded. “-that’s good. What about the others?”

Doyoung smirks.

“Gave them all to Haechan. Says he wants to give Mark a little... _surprise…_ ”

“Oh, boy.”

“Ha ha.”

The other goes past him to change. Doyoung turns to the window. Laughs. No matter what happened, the world just kept on spinning, didn’t it?

 

**...**

 

**1:03 am**

They say nothing on the way to the airport. Maybe Doyoung should’ve expected it. Maybe they’d used up all their words that morning on the rooftop.

He looks out the window, like he always did, but this time, it felt different. Everything looked the same. It was just him that had changed. When he’d looked out into the night a few days ago, all he’d seen were cars and lights and motion, nothing in relation to each other, only together in the scene because that’s how he saw it.

Now he looks out, and he sees the flash of the broken white lines along the road connected curiously by the illusion of lines drawn by the speed of vehicle tail lights. Some white-red, others white-yellow. He looks further out and the broken lines seem to climb up to the sky —another trick of the eye, just the windows of far-off buildings. Then those blend into the stars, the aeroplanes.

Doyoung glances over at Shawn. He’s looking out the window too. That doesn’t mean anything, though, doesn’t mean he’s thinking the same things.

Slowly, still rather shyly, he inches his hand closer, until it just touches the side of his.

Shawn blinks, looks over. Smiles, nudging his hand against his. They don’t hold hands.

Doyoung wants to blame it on Johnny, who’s driving, muttering curses every and again whenever some asshole’s in the wrong lane, but he knows the guy’s not really getting in the way. They are. They’re getting in the way of themselves.

They could start making out and Johnny wouldn’t care. They could start doing everything they did that night, and more, and Johnny probably wouldn’t really care either. Maybe he’d be clever and toss a couple Trojans at them, but he wouldn’t mind, not really. It wasn’t his car. But that really wasn’t the point, now was it?

At some point, Doyoung supposes, Johnny feels bad for them, maybe feels bad that they’re not alone, and tries to start a conversation between them. But they just end up talking to him, one at a time, and Johnny gives up —they’re impossible.

You had to work at these kind of things. Neither of them had the effort right now.

When they reach the airport, Johnny practically has to force them to get out together — _Yeah, I’ll lock the car_ — _you both go on ahead, I think I’ll go grab some Starbucks and muffins. I’ll wait in the car, don’t worry —I brought an audiobook, if you guys take forever. Go on, seriously, get the hell out, haha._

They make their way together, silently, inside the giant, bright place. Doyoung wants to offer to help carry something, but Shawn only had one suitcase. He didn’t even bring a gym bag.

Most of the time is spent waiting in lines. Reception is slow. The planes are noisy. There’s kids roaming around but it’s late, so most of them are pretty sleepy and not talkative. Some are asleep on the benches. Others are fidgeting by the food courts, getting lost in souvenir shops. All Doyoung sees are lights and motion. Lights and motion that don’t feel real.

He brings his attention back to what’s in front of him —the back of Shawn’s head and he feels something like pain, quiet disappointment. From the back, Shawn looked just like anyone. Sure, his figure was nice, but in a crowd of people, maybe Doyoung would not be able to pick him out.

He tries to find something special, something distinct. A stray mole by his neck, a slight discolouration in his skin, a single red hair in his dark mess of curls. But he can’t find anything. And then Shawn turns around.

“You okay?” He looks concerned. “-bathroom’s over there if you have to go.”

“No.” He shook his head, looking to the side. “-I’m fine.”

Shawn nods, not meeting his eyes. “-kay. Just wondering.”

When they’re seated on the benches, it’s in the curious way where they try to sit as far away from each other as possible with their knees still touching. Doyoung flips through his playlist. Shawn opens Facebook, annoyed when it’s mostly just the news. Neither really concentrating. Both trying to forget where they are.

Doyoung looks out the enormous windows, watching the planes roll by, one looking just like the other. He doesn’t know which one is Shawn’s. Even if he knew it wouldn’t matter. He thinks back to what Mark said that evening — _So, he wants to, like, know everything, right?_ Doyoung shook his head. He never gave that idiot enough credit. It didn’t matter if he knew everything. It didn’t stop anything from happening. Didn’t make it any easier, either.

He glances at Shawn, knows he’s running out of time. But he doesn’t know what to do with it. He knows every minute he spends thinking is another minute lost. He can’t just wait for the announcement to air and hope that Shawn would be brave enough to do something.

You had to work for these kinds of things. He doesn’t want to look back and feel stupid for what he hadn't done. Doesn’t wanna get stuck living in yesterday.

_Not feeling anymore now_

_Grow up, grow up, grow up_

He turns to Shawn again. Nudges his shoulder.

_Boy, didn’t know a lot, I think I’m still the same_

_Makes me think about how_

“Hey.” When he turns to him, points with his chin. “-let’s go outside.”

_I hope you like it where I’m now_

When they’re out again in the cold wet night, at first all they do is look —at all the flaring lights around them —near, then far, growing and shrinking slowly, as though they were underwater. So there they were. And then this. This was it. This was the leaving that was waiting to happen.

Quietly, wordlessly, Doyoung links his fingers over Shawn’s and tugs him over to a spot without so much light —just enough so their faces are softly illuminated in dim, dusky oranges, shadows mauve and warm umber. Looks up at him, this time not looking for whether or not there was something in his eyes, letting him know. He doesn’t need to.

Brings his fingers over the front of Shawn’s jacket and pulls him down, kissing him.

When they part, Shawn stops him halfway, slips his own fingers in Doyoung’s hair, pulls him back in. They stay like that for a while, faces close, always hesitating for a second before letting the other in again. Always unsure, always wondering. Maybe they’ll always be wondering.

“I know I’m leaving, but,” Shawn says, when they’re finally far enough to see each other’s faces. “-that, um, that doesn’t mean I don’t wanna see you again...”

“Oh? You...want?”

“Yeah. I, I still wanna see you, Doyoung, I still want—” He looks down, then to the side, then back to him again. “-um, uh, crap…” He digs his pocket for something, comes up empty. “-d-do you have a pen, and paper, er—

“Y-Yeah, yes, uh...” Doyoung unzips his inner hoodie pocket, takes out a Bic and the folded page he’d used yesterday to plan the bingo game. Waves his hand as Shawn unfolds it. “-o-other side good.”

Shawn shifts to a spot with somewhat better lighting and scribbles something down, pauses and scribbles some more. Looks a bit unsatisfied when he hands it back to him.

“That’s my home address —not very useful because I’ll probably be touring again soon —then it’ll just be random hotels and…” He looks at him, embarrassed. “-you probably already got my number ‘cause Johnny gave me yours and I texted you…”

“Yeah —I got.” He nodded, then gently squeezes his wrist. “-don’t worry, so much.”

“Haha, yeah, uh huh,” He laughs, having his words repeated back to him. “-but I wrote down my number just in case —d-don’t lose that paper, okay? A-at least until you get to a computer and save it on—

“-Won’t lose. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah…” He looks down at the space between their feet. Then blinks, palm hitting his forehead. “-oh, my God —I forgot you have a _phone_ —here, let me make sure my number’s in your contacts...”

Doyoung laughs as he scrolled for his info, muttering at himself. “-advanced technology, yeah?”

Shawn laughs, nodding. “-yeah, exactly.” Gestures with his hand, sighing. “-God, sorry, seriously —literally no idea why I’m being so dumb right now…”

“It’s okay.” He shakes his head. “-s'fine.”

“Seriously, though.” Shawn hands his phone back. “-just give me a call, let me know and then maybe we can-" Then his eyes lit up " -hey, hey, wait —I have a great idea!”

“Yeah?”

“I always go camping during the summer —you should totally come with me sometime —and the rest of NCT, they can come too. It’ll be good, it'll be great, it’ll be fun —I promise.”

Doyoung laughs, lifting his eyes  —realizing his hands were back in his hair. Still held on, afraid to let him go. Realizes his own hands still pressed gently over Shawn’s chest, feeling the warm thrum of his pulse.

“You really mean it.”

“I do.” He said. “-seriously, I do. So visit me, okay?”

“Okay.” He replied. “-I try.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayo anyways i'm planning on making this into a series where the next part is NCT127 (plus xuxi, ten, jungwoo and kun) going on a camping trip with Shawn in the great Canadian wilderness ahahaha...
> 
> ...bc, like, i gotta have NCT come to Canada in some kind of way okay (my brother literally made a bet last month where he'll pay me fifty bucks if they come before I'm 30, lmao where does his savagery come smh...)


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